King of the Realm
Page 13
“Yep, that’s it.”
“I guess that will do for the event – now you just need to remember to come! Well, see you later after a fun day in the dungeon.”
The two boys left laughing and joking, seeming to be getting along better now that they were a bit more settled in the city.
--
Ceras was watching the goblin talking with Master Phoxas of Majesty’s college in his private room in the library. Hidden-Caverns’ voice was coming out of the small creature’s mouth, which had initially been a surprise to the older Master Phoxas who had prepared an attack spell when he had first seen the goblin sitting reading a book, but it had now been three hours of continuous discussion of magical theory which all of them had found enriching.
One thing that Ceras now understood about the older wizard was that he could talk until the cows came home, but it was not meaningless chatter. It was always insightful and to the point.
“So, it seems like this collaboration between us is going to be an advantage on both sides,” said the voice of Hidden-Caverns through the goblin.
“Who would have thought that this opportunity would arise for me to work with a dungeon master on such an interesting project?” wondered the older wizard. “Such resources available to me. Well, my boy, you’ll be in good hands. Between the two of us we will get you the information you need. I’m also looking forward to refining the spell efficiency technique that your alter ego Hidden-Caverns developed.”
“The alter ego that listens when somebody tells him something!” muttered the goblin.
“I listen when you say something important, but you talk all the time,” Ceras replied.
“Anyway, I’m going to be giving you your own magical study spell books so it’s easy for you to understand the information. You’d better go and get the house as we need a large place to work in,” Hidden-Caverns instructed Ceras. “It’s getting crowded in here.”
“You're still saying that renting or purchasing a house for that amount of money is not an issue?”
“A mere drop in the bucket, as things are going well in the city and Grikius seems to be making more than we can spend at the moment.”
“OK, I’ll find us a house to operate from,” said Ceras as he stood up and started to walk out of the door.
“Make sure it’s close to the college, young man, as I’d prefer not to have to walk all over the city,” said Master Phoxas.
Ceras nodded and left the library, set on finding a place to work from - he wanted some rooms for experimental work as well.
--
It was the night of the ball, and Ceras was dressed in his wizard’s robe that was as black as the darkest night. He was looking around his new room, amazed at what money could buy if there was enough of it. He had managed to buy a large house that was just off the college grounds and now it was full of gremlins, all cleaning and making it ready for Ceras and the other boys to stay in.
Earlier, he had moved into the one bedroom that was clean and furnished so he could help set up the house. The first thing he had made sure of was that one wing of the house had been set aside for the use of the dungeon and the goblins that represented Hidden-Caverns where he would study. The creatures had been busy setting up a portal in one of the rooms that was also linked to the library and the dungeon.
Ceras had been in this wing of the house with Hidden-Cavern's study team, which often included Master Phoxas, and had been handed the first of his customized study books on magical theory. The goblin had fixed him with a stern eye and let him know that he was under strict instructions to finish learning it and any spells within three days, when he would discuss the theory with Hidden-Caverns and Master Phoxas.
Ceras was wondering when Hidden-Caverns had suddenly taken on the mannerisms of a university professor, but he guessed that maybe it was the influence of Master Phoxas who must have had a lifetime of dealing with students.
He had already read most of the books and tomorrow would be starting to work on memorizing the spells. He did have several questions already which he was making a note of for when he discussed it with the two tutors. Even with all their help, in the end he would be the one to have to make the magical connection of the new theory, so while he was studying with them he was also building on his own experimental research that he was conducting in a warded room of the house. It was early days, yet he was enjoying it and looked forward to learning more. However, Ceras was not looking forward to tonight - this was way out of his depth. The only dancing he had done was the normal folk dancing that the outlying communities took part in during celebrations.
A gremlin came through the small doorway they had installed, bared its teeth and made a knocking motion indicating that somebody was at the door. Ceras smiled in response and got another flash of teeth in return. Several flights of stairs later, he was at the grand entrance to the house in the large wood-paneled reception room that the outside door entered into through a foyer. The outer door was thick wood with sturdy iron bolts going through the planks, providing a solid defense to the house. Ceras had already started setting the wards to protect the property and when he finished it would be well-defended - according to Master Phoxas, who had developed the ward design for Ceras.
When he opened the door, Rinaldo and Qyndad stood before him dressed in leather jackets that seemed to be like armor, but were highly stylized in the latest court fashions. Rinaldo looked uncomfortable in the jacket as he fidgeted, while Qyndad showed an easy elegance as though he wore this kind of outfit every day.
“Stop fidgeting. It’s your own fault for wearing chainmail underneath the jacket,” said an amused Qyndad to his friend.
“Not all of us are practically indestructible, and there's no way I’m meeting with the nobles without some serious protection. If half the stories my old man said are true, I’m going to need it. Ceras, I hope that your robe has some defensive abilities, as you’ll definitely be the prime target,” said the barbarian warrior as he tried to get comfortable, adjusting the belt with his sword attached to it.
Ceras closed the door behind him and cast a magical ward on it, before the three started toward the platform that would elevate them to the palace level. As they walked through the streets of the university level, Ceras produced a magical light to make the street easier to navigate in the darkening night. What was unusual was the reaction of people on the streets; Ceras noticed that his staff made clicking noises as they walked along the street, and most other groups would move to the side and even bow slightly as they passed.
“That’s great,” muttered Rinaldo. “Now everybody thinks that I’m a bloody noble.”
This carried on until they reached the platform building, and got even worse as the guards at the platform cleared people away so the three supposed nobles could access the platform without delay. They were the only people to get off at the palace level where they were met by the palace guards, who were present in larger numbers than the last time they had been here.
Rinaldo presented the three small amulets that represented their invitations to the ball, which were inspected by a master wizard.
His hands glowed green in response to each of the amulets and said, “You need to wear the amulets as long as you're in the palace grounds. If you take them off you’ll be in trouble with the royal guards.”
The three boys nodded and were escorted into the palace grounds by a pair of guards. The courtyard now had several large canvas marquees set up, with magical lights adding an enchanting atmosphere to the night. The largest marquee had a full orchestra on a stage with a wooden dancefloor and comfortable chairs set at tables around the outside. The other marquees were set up with platters full of food and drink, with servants in uniform waiting to serve the expectant guests.
“Well, where is everybody?” Rinaldo asked, surprised, as only the musicians and the servants were currently present.
“Good point,” growled Qyndad. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing Symania and now she’s not here.”
“What does it say?” Rinaldo asked.
“It’s from Symania. She says that nobody arrives on time, as all the more important people try to arrive as late as possible. She tried to let us know but her parents stopped her from contacting us directly. She says just to take a table and wait.” Qyndad had a smile on his face as if it was the greatest love letter ever written.
“OK, let's take the one nearest the food and start eating,” said Rinaldo with a grin.
By the time the young men were on their third plate of food, eating all the different meats and savoring every dish available, the first group of guests started to arrive. Ceras noticed that all of the party members seemed to scan the yard as if they were on a battlefield, before taking a table in one of the smaller marquees far away from the boys.
Then several men arrived in a group who were all dressed similarly to Rinaldo and Qyndad, except their outfits were more worn, while the women wore elegant dresses. The women's dresses were all deep colors with a bright cord of fabric around their waists and long skirts that nearly touched the floor. What was really noticeable was the intricate weaving of their hair into braids that twisted into a head piece.
Very elegant. It must have taken a while to arrange their hair in those patterns, thought Ceras.
Another plate of food later, several groups arrived together, all walking to the same area and starting to talk amongst themselves.
“Will we ever get to talk to anybody?” Qyndad asked.
“I’m really not sure at all,” said Ceras doubtfully. “I think that we have to be introduced to the nobles by somebody else before we can talk to them.”
“Well, this is going to be a long and boring night. Dessert, anybody?” Rinaldo asked and got up to head for the dessert table.
“Sounds good to me.”
An hour later and after many more plates of food, the higher nobles started to arrive - Ceras could tell as all of them were wearing expensive weapons and clothing. As each group arrived, they were met by a representative of a previous group who invited them to a place they had set aside for the more senior nobles. Nobody had attempted to talk to the young men and they were left alone by themselves. The higher-up nobles seemed to be the nuclei of each forming group that remained separate from each other.
“So, why are we here again?” asked a bored Rinaldo.
“Well, I’m here to see Symania,” said Qyndad, sounding determined.
“Hey - is that who I think it is?” Rinaldo asked, spying one of the latest nobles to enter the palace garden with wind whipping around his cloak, making it fly behind him like he was some king of the gods.
Ceras turned around to see Moryam, the Duke of Riverwind in a splendid cloak that flowed around his armor, entering with his family beside him as if they were a pack of hunting dogs looking for prey. Suddenly, their eyes met and Ceras saw nothing but hatred and loathing on the face of the man he had bested in the dungeon.
“Well, at least he’s a familiar face,” said Rinaldo as he smiled and waved at the duke. “Do you think killing him counts as being introduced?”
“It only counts if you eat them as well,” said Qyndad with a dry smile.
A trumpet sounded out in the now starry night, and out of the grand palace entrance and down the red carpet leading to the ball venue came the royal party with the king and queen in front. The queen was dressed elegantly in a deep maroon dress and wore a bright smile on her face, but the king was in a full suit of armor as if he was always dressed for battle. At the rear of the large procession were Shunneth and Symania, walking together arm in arm and smiling over some joke one of them had told the other.
Qyndad stood up with a big smile on his face as he spotted Symania while Ceras noticed Rinaldo smiling at Shunneth, who for the first time since they had known her was wearing a formal dress in deep red. Her blond curly hair cascaded down her back.
The king’s party moved to the edge of the dancefloor as the rest of the guests sat down. The king stood with his hand on the long sword at his side and cleared his throat, causing silence to descend upon the garden; the magical lights all turned toward him as if he was on a stage. In the sudden silence, Ceras could hear the sound of a small bird calling.
“Welcome, all, to the ball to celebrate the return of my daughter, who is now a master healer,” said the king. Some of the crowd applauded with vigor, while the Moryam, Duke of Riverwind faction just sat there silently as if nothing of importance had been said.
“The court would also like to formally introduce the new dungeon master from the west of the kingdom. Would you please stand up, dungeon master Ceras?”
As all eyes turned toward Ceras, he stood, red-faced and unsure of what to do, so he turned toward the king and bowed. This produced a round of applause from some of the crowd, but other sections just sat silently as if nothing was happening - until a loud voice rang out.
“Your Majesty, I must oppose the formal introduction into the court of this boy,” Moryam declared. With anger on his face, he moved forward and threw his coat back, exposing his large broadsword. “He has done nothing to deserve the formal recognition of the court.”
“The mere fact that he has beaten you in a challenge is justification enough for the court to acknowledge his presence,” the king replied.
“I must challenge that sentiment, as he used unorthodox tactics to beat my challenge.”
“I didn't realize that there were any rules to the challenge of a dungeon master when his life is on the line,” said the king in a mocking tone. “Now that you’ve lost the challenge you’ve nothing to worry about as he can prevent you from entering the dungeon, so this matter is closed to you.”
“Still, my king, I must protest as it is not right for the court to acknowledge him.”
“What the royal court does or does not do is entirely my decision, unless you want to try and challenge me,” said the king, an underlying threat to his voice.
“I thought that you would never ask.” Moryam, the Duke of Riverwind threw down his coat, exposing his full armor and drawing the large broadsword.
The king walked forward to the center of the wooden dancefloor in his thick armor and took a stance with his blade drawn, and put on the helmet that had been hanging from his side.
“I take back my statement that this was going to be a boring night,” said Rinaldo to the others.
“Looks like it just got to be interesting - and very dangerous,” muttered Ceras, readying spells to defend himself if he needed to.
The duke stormed forward with his helmet on, and without preamble, the battle began.
Ceras thought, These nobles seem to want to fight at the drop of a hat!
As everybody gave them room to battle, the duke moved his sword as if it was an extension to his hand in a swift thrust, jabbing at the king’s exposed side. Ceras saw the king’s large body sweep to the side as if he was flowing water, causing the duke to overextend his reach. In a rapid motion, the king swung his heavy blade toward the extended arm of the duke. The duke’s motion blurred for a second as he seemed to disappear, then reappeared behind the king’s back.
From Ceras’ viewpoint it looked like the king was about to receive a blow to his back, but he disappeared in a flash of white light to reappear at the side of the duke with a glowing sword thrust toward an exposed section of the duke's armor. Ceras had to watch intensely to see the tip of the sword enter into the duke’s armpit and rip the chain mail, but the duke blurred again and moved a few feet away from the king.
Suddenly there were three images of the duke, each one moving from a different direction to attack the king. The king stamped with a mighty crash on the ground, sending tentacles of blue light along the floor that reached out toward the three images of the duke, causing two of them to light up with a faint blue glow. The king ignored the two glowing images and
just fended off the image that was not glowing. As the duke’s and king’s swords clashed, the glowing replicas attacked the king only for their weapons to move right through him as if they were ghosts.
Ceras watched closely for the next few minutes as similar tactics continued, with each of the legendary warriors playing a three-dimensional battle game in front of him. Glancing around, what Ceras found most interesting was the reaction of other parties at the ball. He noticed that there were three main camps: one that seem to support the king as the battle gathered speed, the opposite group that were on the duke’s side with looks of desperation on their faces as if this was a major gamble, and the side that was neutral. This formed the vast majority of nobles attending the ball.
All of the parties were fingering their swords, as if more was at play than the mere battle between the king and the duke that was being played out violently in view of everybody. Ceras’ attention was called back to the single combat between the duke and the king as he heard the clash of a sword on an armored plate. He saw the duke stagger back with his right arm cut at the shoulder and the severed arm flopping to the floor. The king pressed forward his advantage, trying to finish off the duke with an attack to the injured side, and thrust his sword into the stump of the arm to gain entry into his body.
As the duke's body fell and the king was just about to force his blade into the chest through the arm socket, the duke’s wife shouted, “To the duke’s defense - all vassals now attack!”
Ceras watched in shock as the party that had been surrounding the duke’s family all drew their swords and rushed toward the king and the duke on the ground. The blue light of a shield came up and Ceras realized that he was not the only person to erect a magical protection between the king and his challenger.
When the king saw the advancing crowd, he just grunted and pushed his sword fully through the duke's arm into the chest cutting into his heart, as more blood spurted from the duke’s mouth and arm socket. The duke went limp as his eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed, dead. The king placed a foot on the duke’s body and pulled out his long sword with a grating sound, then moved forward as guards and retainers rushed to his side, all armed with swords, maces and shields.