The Lord Son's Travels (5 page)

Both
pulled their hands away from their weapons, frowning at their discovery.
 
Bendelbert had to laugh at their
downcast faces.

"‘Tis
okay, boys, I grant you, most men would not do much better hiding from a
half-elf like me.
 
Ah, yes, Lord
Son, my mother's people are from the Woods, contrary to what your learned
tutors might have told you.
 
My
father's people come from the other side of that thick border with the world,
too.
 
I know what its like to be a
outlander in Allè-dôn, so I told that young boy's mother yesterday.
 
They came to see me today, you know.
 
All excited, told me the Lady Queen
would sponsor him in Bard school, and did I know it was the Lord Son himself
that had wrote that note?" He laughed again.
 
Brendan glanced at Adrien, who looked uncomfortable at the
story.
 
Bendelbert grew serious
again.
 
"You'll have all of
the foodstuff you need, royalborn," he promised.
 
"Bring your horses here tomorrow next night.
 
I'll load up what you'll need, and you
can leave here at moonrise.
 
You
can ride at night and have good lead on your pursuers."

Adrien finally
found the words to speak.
 
He bowed
slightly to the balding tavern keeper.
 
"Goodman, you have my thanks for your aid."
   

Bendelbert
shrugged.
 
"Lord Son, I always
thought you were the best pick of that poor lot in the Capital.
 
Lady grant you a safe journey.
 
Bring your mounts."
 
He waved them out the door impatiently,
calling to Rene to kick those worthless drunks out into the road so an honest
barkeep could reach his bed.
 
Brendan and Adrien slipped out of the Tavern into the misty night.
 
The half-moon above them forced itself
through the wispy clouds to reveal the silent tableau of the empty city
streets.

"There
are no elves," Brendan insisted, shaking his head. Adrien surprised him
with a chuckle.
 

"I
don't think it is wise to doubt anything outside of these borders," he
said.
 
"Let's hope all the
strangers we meet become allies, too."

Chapter 5

The next
morning, for the first and last time in his life, Adrien pulled rank to cancel his
military duties.
 
He called his
lieutenant into his quarters and informed him that he would be swamped with
royal duties for the next few days, and turned control of the unit into his
capable hands.
 
The lieutenant
nodded and smiled, eager for the chance to impress his commander.
 
Adrien helped himself to a quick
breakfast in the mess hall, watching his soldiers converse between bites as
they wolfed down their meals.
 
Then
he called for his favorite horse and rode unrecognized through the busy streets
to the Capital.
 

The
guards at the front gate saluted him briskly and allowed him to pass through
without pause.
 
He slowed down his
pace to survey the workers in the sunny fields on either side of the road.
 
Planting time had begun.
 
Though these fields had originally been
left bare as a security measure for the Capital, many reigns ago one of his
ancestors had decided it was ridiculous to leave good land lying fallow, and a
few crops were planted within the Capital's gates.
 
It was considered an honor and a testament to their
husbandry skills for a commoner to be allowed to work on the royal land, and
only those who produced the best yields were given access.
 
The day proved to be a warm one for
early spring, and the majority of the farmers were laboring early to get as much
done as possible before the full heat of the day. Adrien stalled a little
longer to watch the farmers patiently trudging behind teams of sturdy
workhorses dragging heavy iron plows, dropping seeds into the fresh furrows as
they passed.
 
Then he nudged his
horse back onto the Capital road.

In front
of him rose the shining walls of the Capital itself, prickly with triads and
quartets of thin spirals reaching into the blue skies from its corners. Nothing
else of its architectural character had ever been erected in the city, even
Allè-dônians who had never seen it with their own eyes would praise its beauty,
and held no desire to build anything else like its spectacle and
complexity.
  
At this
elevation on the Capital hill, he could see beyond the city to the woods that
completely enclosed Allè-dènè, the trees stretching to the horizon below the
glowing sun of the morning.
 
The
sun had
nearly completed its climb to
its daily zenith, bathing the view in a warm yellow bath. Soon he reached the
bridge over the murky cold waters of the moat that encircled the center of the
Capital.
 
No one was quite sure
what matter of fish or animal lived in its dark waters, or even the true depth
of the ancient moat.
 
Legends abounded
of the hideous creatures that would arise and defend the inhabitants of the
Capital if needed, so most people kept a few careful steps from its edge, at
most peeking over the edge of the bank when curious.
 
Once Adrien as a child had stuck his foot in the waters, to
the great astonishment of his older brother and his friends.
 
He had no response to his dare from the
mysterious inhabitants, and afterwards dropped all interest in the stories
their nurse used to try to frighten them into good behavior.

After
crossing the heavy log bridge that traversed the moat, Adrien reached the pair
of ceremonial King's Guard posted at the giant main door.
 
He halted before them and pushed back
the hood of his cloak to reveal his identity.

"Lord
Son," the first guard greeted with a salute.
 
"I did not know you were expected today."
 
Adrien responded with a polite nod but
no other information.
 
The guards
called inside, and began the tedious process of leveraging open the heavy
wooden doors.
  
As soon as
there was enough space for his mount, Adrien slipped through and rode into the
central courtyard.
 
This was an
area of lovely open greenery stretching to the main buildings rising in front
of him, and the kitchen and
stable
areas to the sides.
 
A groom ran
forward immediately to take the reigns, and Adrien slid down from his saddle
with a muttered greeting.
 
As his
mount was lead away, the younger son glanced around the open courtyard.
 
In the center a huge fountain sprayed
water into the air.
  
Vibrant
flowers grew in patches here and there, absorbing the sun beaming down from the
openings in the roof above them.
 
A
few young nobles strolled importantly around the perimeter of the area in their
best Court costumes, as their parents rested on benches near the fountains,
gossiping on the daily events of Court.
 
Adrien to his relief didn’t recognize anyone, and was able with his hood
drawn low over his face to sneak across the courtyard to the gold-framed doors
leading to the central building without drawing any attention.
 
He had no desire to be
button-holed by an ambitious noble hoping to use him as a step on his ascent,
especially on a busy day like this.
 
He slipped into the next hall, passed yet another set of guards, and
crossed the Central Hall to the doorway leading to the royal family's private
chambers.
 
There was one final
guard to pass, the venerable old Gilbert, who had stood outside these chambers
since Andrüe's time of ascension to the throne.
 
Here Adrien wore his first real smile since entering the
Capital's gates.

"How
are you?" he greeted the old servant warmly.
 
The old man's face lit up as he recognized the approaching
uniformed man.

"Lord
Son!
 
Well met!"
 
They chatted briefly about life in the
service, then Adrien asked for the current locations of his family members.
 
Besides his ceremonial protective
duties, Gilbert was also the unofficial secretary of the royal family’s comings
and goings, sure to tell only the correct amount of information only to the
correct people.
  
“Your father
is in meetings all morning, as well as your brother.
 
Annäe Lady Heir is in her chambers with the young Lords, and
your mother is in her rooms with her maidens."

Adrien
nodded, wished the old guard a good day and entered the royal suites.
 
His first stop was his own chamber, now
rarely slept in, but a handy place to use for additional storage.
 
He retrieved his ceremonial scabbard
and a few other spare items for his journey.
 
He glanced around the Spartan chamber, and felt a sudden
unexpected glimmer of nostalgia.
 
He
pondered the wisdom of visiting his mother and his young nephews before he
left.
 

"Hello,
Adrien."
  
His mother’s
voice startled him; he jumped slightly and whirled around.
 
The Lady Queen waited in the doorway,
observing him lost in his reverie.
 
He smiled sheepishly.

"Hello,
Mother."
 
She crossed the room
to stand in front of him, chiding him gently for not visiting more often as she
brushed the traveling dust from his dark cloak.
 
Alma Lady Queen stood in deep contrast to the grey eyes and dark
hair of the male members of the royal family.
 
Her eyes were the palest blue, with long
blonde
hair that flowed past her shoulders almost to her waist.
 
In her youth, her beauty had drawn the
eyes of all the men of Allè-dôn, and won her the heart of the Lord Heir.
 
Although the years had been kind, time
had softened her angular beauty, bringing suppleness to her sharp jaw line and
high cheekbones.
 
The harsh summer
gold of her tresses had faded to the warm pale of a winter sun.
 
Fewer and fewer poems were dedicated to
her beauty, a fact she pretended not to notice.
 
She sat on the corner of the bed, absent-mindedly smoothing
the folds of her silken formal dress, and motioned for her son to join her.
 
Adrien complied, keeping a
careful distance between the silken material and his own dusty uniform.

"Your
father told me of your disagreement," she chided, to her son's acute discomfort.
He wriggled slightly in his seat as he had done as a child under his mother’s
disapproval.
  
"I know
you did not mean to upset him, Adrien."

"Surely
not, Mother," he replied quickly.
 

She
nodded.
 
"You must watch your
place, son," she warned gently.
 
"If the news was to leave this house of any difficulty in our
family, it would cause concern for our stability."

Adrien
nodded with eyes downcast, unwilling to argue his point.
 

Alma
continued.
 
"You must believe
that your father knows all he must to rule this land well.
 
It is not the place of any other person
to challenge his decisions."
 
He nodded again, and to his great relief, Alma decided to change the
subject.
 
"This young boy you
sent me," she affirmed brightly.
 
"He is quite talented.
 
I have decided to enroll him in school.
 
His mother and sisters will assist me as seamstresses to
earn their keep."

Adrien
thanked her for her assistance.
 
"It was kind of you to send them, Adrien," she said with a
smile.
 
"You have a good
heart, son, though it hides so deeply within you sometimes.
 
I have decided to send to Roden a
message, asking for Isabeau to begin her journey here."
  
Adrien startled, alarm flashing
briefly across his face, so quickly that few people besides his family would
have recognized it.
 
Alma did, and
smothering her concerns for his feelings continued firmly,
 
"I don't want you to be lonely,
son.
 
It is time for you to have
someone else by your side.
 
Isabeau
will be a good wife for you."

"I
am not lonely, Mother," Adrien protested weakly.
 
"I have my duties..."

His
mother laughed gently.
 
"Oh,
Adrien, I think it will surprise you what the love of a good woman could do for
you.
 
Your duties will not matter
so much then, except the duties you hold to your family."

"I
must go, Mother," Adrien rose from his seat against his mother's
protests.
 
He paused, and turned
around to grasp the Lady Queen's hands.
 
His eyes were unreadable as he gazed into hers for a moment, memorizing
her gentle expression.
 
He left her
sitting on the edge of the bed, as he rushed from the private chambers to the
central hall again.
 
Here in a
semi-private corner he floundered onto a bench, gathering his stormy thoughts
into some semblance of order again.

"Lord
Son?"
 

Adrien
glanced up to the see Tarien leaning over him, wearing a look of concern.
 
The royal rose in relief, greeting the
Counselor with a hearty shake of his hand.
  
The Counselor continued, "What are you doing
here?"

"Visiting
my mother," Adrien replied.
 
The Counselor motioned with his hands down the hall.
 

"Walk
with me," he invited, smiling.
 
Adrien joined him as he strolled down the mostly deserted center
corridor.
  
Adrien noted
Tarien's formal Council robes.
 

"Is
there a Council meeting today?"

Tarien
shook his head.
 
"I am just
returned from a talk with a few of the Council members.
 
We have had more messages from our
neighbors, Adrien, and what they tell us does not bode us well."

"What
news?" Adrien asked.
 
At the
end of the hall, they reached the doorway leading to the formal gardens
arranged behind the Capital.
 
Spread over several acres, the Gardens were a favorite place for the
royals and their chosen companions to gather privately.
 
The section they first entered was
dedicated to red roses of every size, growing in both tightly controlled beds
and spread free in wild tangled bushes in no particular pattern or design.
 
Several paths led through the
wilderness.
 
They picked the least
popular path, hoping to find solitude from any listening ears.
 

When they
were sure they were alone, Tarien continued, "There are reports of
organized battles now between Brannon and Leixan, which were not
unexpected.
 
Other lands are filled
with these agitators now, including a few in our neighbor Arden."