The Silvering of Loran (17 page)

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Authors: G.B. WREN

Tags: #fantasy, #coming of age, #teen and young adult, #magic, #sword and sorcery, #witches and wizards

BOOK: The Silvering of Loran
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Topen dismounted and handed Daramose’s reins to Kelamar.

“Daramose is not as patient as I am when dealing with aggression,” said Topen. “If you will walk him through the gate, the guards’ attention can remain focused on me.”

The four men walked together towards the castle entrance, but only Topen and Kelamar—with Daramose in tow—passed through the archway and into the crowded entry. To Kelamar’s surprise, the faces that looked in their direction mostly displayed pleasant smiles.

“What is that stone doing to them? I’ve never seen so many misplaced grins—even on the most aggressive among them.”

“They see me as someone they trust, admire, or even desire,” Topen explained. “My form appears differently to each of them.”

Kelamar glanced over at Topen, and once again to the smiling faces around them.

“You look no different to me. Am I immune to its influence?”

“No, my friend, the stone is just confirming
your
trust of me since I appear as myself to you—and a few of the others around us as well.”

The two men stopped when they reached the edge of the courtyard.

“I will see that Daramose is well tended,” said Kelamar. “If notice of your arrival hasn’t already begun to spread throughout the castle, it will soon—after you cross the courtyard. It won’t take long before Gervest’s guards try to prevent you from seeing Gilvius.”

“Is he still confined to his bed?”

“Yes, and Leanna has informed me that Gervest has recently assigned one of his personal guards outside their chambers. She fears that Gilvius is near death.”

Topen returned the stone he held to a pocket beneath his cloak and turned to Daramose’s saddle. His fingers first touched the talisman dangling from the ring near the horn. He caressed the bright red stone between his fingers. After he extracted a velvet bag from the saddlebags, his motion across the vast courtyard was swift—with an unwavering resolve.

* * *

T
he guard stationed outside the chamber of the sovereign watched Topen as he grew near, and placed his hand on the handle of his sword. Topen advanced with his eyes directed downward, his hood drawn purposely over his head to mask his face. The sound of the sword drawn from its sheath drew Topen’s attention to the sharp steel now pointed at his head.

“Yield and identify yourself,” the guard snarled.

Topen raised his head. The guard formed a twisted smile of recognition when the light illuminated Topen’s face.

“You look just like your portrait, Topen,” he sneered. “Oh, I imagine it surprises you to know I have seen it,” he taunted.

Topen raised his hands to his hood and lowered it onto his back. And before the guard was even aware of the magic emanating from Topen’s palm, he found himself slumped on the floor, fading into unconsciousness.

Leanna was sitting by Gilvius’s side in the bedchamber when she heard her chamber door creak open. She couldn’t see who had entered until Topen passed the wall blocking her view of the entry. Upon first sight of him, her eyes showed hopefulness through the despair that had taken her.

“I do not know how much longer he has,” Leanna spoke, her voice weak. “His eyes have not opened for two full days. We must not lose him, Topen.”

Topen maneuvered close to Gilvius from the other side of the bed. He pulled a light stone with blue veining from beneath his cloak. The stone shone brightly with an iridescent blue glow when Topen placed his thumb upon it. The glow flowed from his hand as he passed it over Gilvius’s body.

“Do not worry, Leanna,” consoled Topen. “I know this magic that devours him. I can restore his health.”

Leanna stood and smiled through her tears at Topen’s assurance.

“He has suffered for so long, I pray that it was not Gervest who has caused his father so much anguish,” Leanna whispered.

Topen continued to pass his hand over Gilvius for a few moments longer. Small particles of white light passed from the blue and penetrated his body. Topen placed his hand directly over Gilvius’s face. He began to respond and opened his eyes to the first clear thoughts he has managed in months. Gilvius first saw Topen, and then felt Leanna’s grip on his hand. When his eyes found her, a familiar confidence flowed from his kind smile.

“As beautiful as I find your tears, my love. I am not yet willing to relinquish myself to eternity.”

Leanna laughed at the words her husband was so fond of reciting whenever he felt she needed reassurance. She was finally convinced that he had returned to her.

“How long have I been under this darkness?” Gilvius asked Topen.

“We can’t be sure, but we suspect it began sixteen years ago.”

Gilvius flinched at the suggestion that such a long period had passed while he was under the control of another.

“However, those who are manipulating you must not know of your recovery. Your appearance will take longer to reflect your true age, but if evil discovers their deceit has been uncovered, we will lose the advantage we currently wield.”

“As Sovereign, I can stop—”

“You are sovereign in name only, a figurehead to preside over Gervest’s ascension,” Topen stated bluntly.

Gilvius accepted Topen’s words without protest. Gilvius had always demonstrated the ability to know when to take advice. If Topen were involved in restoring the Avileen’s course, he would gladly yield to whatever strategy he would employ.

“I would advise that Leanna place a mask of despair on her face when visited by anyone you do not trust. And you, Gilvius, must appear to be sleeping for a while longer,” Topen instructed.

“Do not worry, Topen,” said Leanna. “We will not betray the joy you have given us this day.”

“Do not be concerned with the guard outside your door,” said Topen. “Soon, he will have no memory as to why he has fallen asleep while on duty. He will not want word of his carelessness to reach Gervest.”

* * *

T
open let himself into Loran’s chamber when his repeated knocking on her door was unanswered. He surveyed the room and noticed that the painting of him was absent. After another perusal, he started to leave. Suddenly, Rolam and Loran appeared in the middle of the chamber: Loran’s thumb floated over her magical stone and her hand joined with Rolam’s—to make him invisible as well.

New among Loran’s adornments were two thin silver bracelets on her wrist. She extended her arm upward, and with eyebrows raised, jangled them playfully for Topen to notice, which he did with admiration of her stylish use of the silvering solution.

“I’m surprised you did not sense me using this stone,” said Loran. “You detected it before.”

“The stone is no longer bonded to me,” explained Topen.

“Why not?”

“It joined with
you
after your silvering.”

Loran inspected the stone in her hand, but she didn’t feel any closer to the object than before.
How does a stone bond with you
? She pondered.

“Loran has been showing me much since you were last here,” said Rolam. “However, I do not believe I will be able to complete the silvering.”

“Perhaps not, but you can still use the stones—as long as you have the silvering solution,” said Topen.

“Loran has provided several small bottles for my use. I carry them with me so they will be undetected from the searches Gervest has ordered.”

“His guards enter our chambers when they are certain we are not nearby,” revealed Loran, repulsed by their snooping.

“We think one of us was seen leaving Loran’s chamber on the night of our gathering,” said Rolam. “Whatever Gervest suspects, he has gathered no knowledge from those who were present.”

“His guards have learned one thing,” declared Topen, while eyeing the spot on the wall that his portrait no longer occupied. “They now seem to recognize me on sight.”

Loran tracked Topen’s gaze and understood his inference.

“Throughout the years, there has been only two occasions when Holt’s painting of you remained on my wall without my presence,” explained Loran. “The first was the day Holt brought it to me, and the second was the day I found you in my chamber when you returned to us. I remove it every morning and place it where others cannot see it.”

“Then, you may have an admirer among Gervest’s protectors, one who watches as you sleep,” suggested Topen.

Disgusted, Loran scowled at the image Topen had placed in her head.

“If that is so, I promise that he will only leave here with nightmares should he be so confident as to invade my rest again.”

Topen and Rolam had no doubt of her determination to make the voyeur regret having ever entered her chamber.

“Gervest has been made aware of my presence in the castle by now,” said Topen. “No doubt, his guards are seeking me out. I will let them find me in the library, and persuade them to bring Gervest to me.”

“Liam has been awaiting word of your return,” said Rolam. “While I suspect he has already received the news, I will travel to Avilbrook today to confirm it.”

Topen removed a velvet bag from within his cloak and handed it to Loran. She pulled a shiny black stone with deep red veining from within it.

“I didn’t expect it to be so beautiful,” said Loran.

“The blackened stones present an appealing beauty. Not many have resisted their allure when held so close,” said Topen. “Nor escape it.”

Loran continued to admire the beauty of the stone.

“There are a few more instructions I must leave with you before I go,” said Topen.

* * *

G
ervest, accompanied by Penlaris and two of his protectors, marched down the hall towards the library. The scornfulness on Gervest’s face drove his accelerated pace and irritation at being summoned by Topen. However, Penlaris’s demeanor—despite having matched Gervest’s rapid strides—was outwardly calm, the apprehension he held for Topen’s unexpected arrival remained veiled.

As Gervest’s entourage reached the library entrance, the two leading guards flung open the doors. Gervest, who had by now worked himself into a frenzy, stomped past them into the room.

Topen had seated at the far end of the table in the center of the room. But even from a distance, he was able to evaluate the appearance of the man whom he had just recently become aware, Penlaris. Though he did not recognize the image of the older man with long white hair, he still felt something familiar about him.

“How
dare
you refuse a command to appear before the sovereign!” yelled Gervest.

“I was unaware that Gilvius had issued such an instruction,” Topen calmly replied, while his eyes latched onto Gervest’s threatening glare.

Gervest’s rage gradually simmered when he realized that Topen would not be so easily intimidated.

“If I may, Gervest, perhaps Topen is unaware that your rise to the sovereignty is only weeks away,” said Penlaris.

Topen’s eyes shifted from Gervest to Penlaris.

“I don’t recall that we have met . . . Penlaris, isn’t it?” Topen asked.

When Topen said his name aloud, Penlaris felt strangely uneasy and increased his wariness of the situation that was unfolding.

“I was with Gervest when the guard you sent announced your . . .
invitation
to join you here,” explained Penlaris, who was aware of his blunder of calling Topen by name.

Topen rose from the table and paced towards Penlaris. He slipped a hand into his cloak’s outer pocket, and when Penlaris detected his gesture, he did the same. But as Topen drew close, he focused on Gervest.

“I have heard your father is very ill. If he is well enough to receive an old friend, I will pay my respects.”

“He must not be disturbed,” snarled Gervest. “He is trying to preserve his strength so he can preside over my ascension.”

Topen ignored Gervest as he spoke, and made it conspicuous that he was not interested in Gervest’s words, but in Penlaris’s cloak. After he completed his visual examination of the covering, Topen refocused on Gervest.

“Your guards were gracious enough to share the news of your ascension,” said Topen. “I would not miss this joyous day for you and your father.”

“Why would I allow—?”

“Soon, many will be arriving from all the provinces,” Penlaris quickly interjected. “The castle will be unable to accommodate those who lack invitations.”

“I do not seek to impose undue stress on the resources of the castle,” said Topen. “I will find suitable lodging close by.”

Topen brushed by Gervest and left the room, unhampered by the guards near the doors.

“Why didn’t you destroy him, or let me?” Spewed Gervest.

“Would you risk all that you have worked for on a battle within this room?” asked Penlaris. “Topen did not meet you without protection,” he assured Gervest. Penlaris stepped towards the doorway and gazed beyond its barrier. “Now I must find out if his suspicions have delivered the knowledge I have carefully concealed,” he whispered.

* * *

S
oon after the night had descended on the castle, Kelamar and Topen sat in a secluded area of the crowded dining hall—enjoying the last of their meal.

“So, Penlaris is definitely from your realm?” asked Kelamar.

“Not only that, but his cloak is of a design very familiar to me. I recall it from my days before my rescue; it reminds me of one my father received as a gift.”

“Do you think he is a relative . . . or even Nepsaril?”

Topen shook his head and brought his finger to the tabletop. When he traced the name of
Penlaris
, glowing letters remained on the wood with each movement of his finger. He then did the same with the name
Nepsaril
, tracing it next to Penlaris. Kelamar looked at the names that glowed before him and studied Topen as he did the same.

Then, one by one, Topen began to pull letters away from Nepsaril with his finger. He placed them in order underneath the glowing letters of Penlaris. First, the
P
, the
e
, the
n,
by now Topen knew how this would conclude and he finished spelling out Penlaris with the remaining letters of Nepsaril.

“Then it
is
him!” exclaimed Kelamar. “How did he survive? I saw the ashes myself.”

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