by Lori Hyrup
Aria found herself outside on the back porch of the inn. She stared out at the surrounding woodlands but did not really look at anything in particular. Slow, silent tears continued to form. One rolled down her right cheek. What might her life have been like had circumstances been different? What if she had never been selected to become a kruusta? Would she have married and had children? What legacy would she have left behind? Would it have been better to live a short life filled with the love of children over a life of unending battle, both with the monsters of her world and with the monster within herself? These questions she had never before considered, but they now filled her head. She realized that in all her years of service, she had never even thought about her own desires or needs.
A warm hand rested on Aria’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” asked Zephyron, his voice soft and comforting.
“I don’t know why this is affecting me like this,” she said, her voice tight to her ears. “I don’t even understand what it is I’m feeling. I’ve never had problems with my emotions getting out of hand before.”
“Aria, this is not out of hand. This is normal human emotion. We’re all subject to them. Even me. And there is nothing wrong with expressing them.”
“Still, for me, something like seeing a sleeping baby shouldn’t make me cry. It’s not the first one I’ve ever seen. I don’t know what’s changed with me, why I’m reacting like this.”
“White Bluff,” said a female voice. Aria turned to see Kharra joining them. Kharra had her thumb over her lip, her mind working something out.
The discussion distracted Aria enough that she was able to will the tears to stop. With her thumb, she wiped away the one drying on her cheek. “What do you mean?” Aria asked.
“You asked what’s changed with you,” Kharra replied. “One was White Bluff, after the fighting. It was there you said that you expected your conversion to happen soon, and you asked Zephyron to kill you before it happened.”
Stunned, Aria stared at Kharra. Regret. Longing. Missing. With clarity the answer to her own question formed in her mind. Kharra and Zephyron had told her of lands, people, cultures, experiences, and ways of life beyond what she had known in Tanoria. She had believed she had seen everything there was to see in this world, but now she knew that she had seen and experienced very little of it. Beyond all that Kharra and Zephyron loved life, and that love of life had proved infectious. They fought for it and lived for it. They enjoyed what life had to offer, even if that was sometimes hard or unpleasant. Throughout her eighty-five years, Aria had been a willing disciple of her inevitable fate, and because of that she had never truly learned to appreciate living. Because these two people had opened her eyes, there were so many more things she now wanted to experience.
Aria turned to go back in. “Give me a few minutes. Then we can be off.”
“We’ll be out front.”
Aria smiled and nodded, her emotional pain from earlier embraced and tucked away in the back of her mind. She returned to the family’s suite and spent a little more time with the exhausted mother and babies before bidding them a proper farewell. Outside the door to the suite, Aria stopped, took a deep breath, and collected herself. She wiped her eyes to make sure no more tears had escaped, and with a small smile, she made her way back to her companions.
9
CROWN PRINCE KIEM
The second-largest city in Aelland, Valmont, boasted a population of almost fifty thousand. From sunup to sundown, industrious energy filled its busy cobblestone streets—mule-drawn carts conveying cargo across town, women in groups traveling to one of the many nearby marketplaces, soldiers from the local garrison patrolling, farmers in wagons delivering their harvest. It was a stark contrast to the hilly countryside that made up most of the northeastern section of the province. Shard beasts and other dangers remained a constant threat across the countryside, but within the protective boundaries of the city’s walls, people worried about the prices of eggs and milk more than perils such as shard beasts.
The people of Valmont worked hard, conveying pride in both their goods and in their culture. Every marketplace, each located in a circular stone-worked convergence of streets, overflowed with people—buying, selling, and even just perusing. Most of the population originated from the more remote towns and villages of Aelland, places like Braylore, Murali, Summerton, White Bluff, Farcroft, and North Bank. According to the younger generation, Valmont was where the edge of civilization began. Young people often left their villages to explore life in that civilization. Most of them never went any farther.
Aria brought Xierex to a halt in front of the Wild Mercer, the inn she had chosen to stay at while in the city. Kharra and Zephyron already had their rooms, but Aria had taken a detour alone to visit the city’s shard temple. The temple’s priest had been unavailable for an audience, but one of his assistants had been more than happy to answer her questions and allow her to commune. She had been pleased to find nothing amiss.
A clattering of hooves on cobblestone captured Aria’s attention as she dismounted from her zegu. She turned and watched the procession, which came to a halt almost in front of her at the large white stone building trimmed in gold across the wide street. The procession consisted of three dozen riders who rode six abreast and six deep. They wore gleaming white tabards over polished mail shirts, and a large gold star encircled by red roses decorated the upper-left quadrant of each tabard. One of the riders dismounted and strode briskly into the white building known as the Golden Horseman.
The Golden Horseman, boasting three stories, offered the most luxurious—and most expensive—lodging in Valmont. Only wealthy merchants, visiting or traveling provincial dignitaries, and nobility could afford their rates. However, because of its spacious ballroom, it was sometimes rented out by families for special events, such as weddings, engagements, and birthdays.
“Is everything okay?” Kharra asked as she exited the Wild Mercer and stepped up beside Aria.
“I’m not certain,” Aria replied as she dismounted and led Xierex to the stables beside the inn, all the while keeping her attention focused on the men and women across the street.
“Who are they?” Kharra asked.
Aria led Xierex into his stall and unstrapped her pack. “They’re called the Order of the Rose,” she answered as she slung her pack over her shoulder. “They’re a knighthood in service to the emperor. They don’t often leave Aloazai except with the emperor himself or one of his family members. Aloazai is on the other side of Tanoria, so I’m a little bit curious as to what might have brought them here.”
The rider who had entered the establishment returned, followed by more than a dozen attendants. The dismounted rider shouted quick orders to the other riders, each of whom parted to let the attendants reach the center of their formation. Another rider in the center dismounted, but between the other riders and the growing audience on the street, Aria could not get a clear view of the person’s face.
“I’m heading to my room,” the kruusta said, having seen enough. “I’m sure the rumors will spread to our inn before the night is out.”
When Aria returned to the common room three hours later after a bath and a much-needed nap, the entire place was bustling with activity. Neither Kharra nor Zephyron had been in their rooms, and neither was visible in the crowd. Aria maneuvered her way to a seat in the corner and caught the attention of one of the servers.
“Hello…” the server began as she glanced down at the crystal on Aria’s hand. “Kruusta,” she finished in a much lower voice. “What could I do you for?”
“Your special will be fine…” Aria said, leaving her statement open-ended for a name.
“Gwin,” the server said with a startled smile. “I’ll return with your meal in a moment.” Aria expected the woman to turn and leave, but she hesitated. Visibly working up the nerve to say more, the woman cleared her throat. She leaned down closer. “You are a kruusta. You might know more. Would you happen to know why a prince of the empire w
ould come to our city?” The woman shifted with nervous energy, but Aria did not think it was because of her nature as a kruusta.
Aria gave the question thought and then shook her head. “No, sorry. There could be any number of reasons, I suppose. Seeing the people, searching for a bride, getting to know the governors?” She shrugged. “I’m not really a good source for current events. My work keeps me away from sources of information for long stretches of time, so your guess is as good as mine.” She sometimes received updates on current events when she visited the shard temples, but those were often weeks after the fact. Nothing she had heard more recently had mentioned anything about the prince or the imperial family.
The woman stood up, pushed a lock of brown hair from her eyes, and smiled. “I’ll go get your food.”
Aria gave her a tight smile and nodded. While she waited for her meal to arrive, she allowed the ambient chatter of the room to wash over her. Several times she caught the words “emperor” or “prince.” Sometimes they were intertwined with grumblings about taxes. Other times they were accompanied by laughs.
A few minutes later, the brown-haired server returned with Aria’s meal. The braised beef, spiced pears, and fire mead smelled wonderful, and Aria’s ravenous stomach growled in anticipation. The kruusta pressed a large silver coin into the woman’s hand and offered her thanks. The woman peered into her hand and gasped. She started to say something, but Aria winked at her. Startled at first by such an exchange from a kruusta, the woman soon understood and beamed a smile. “Thank you very much!”
Aria smiled at the woman’s enthusiasm. “You’re welcome,” she responded. The woman did not realize that taverns and inns were a much more reliable source of information for Aria than her infrequent updates from the shard temples. Even though innkeepers, barkeeps, and tavern maids feared those of her profession, they dealt with kruustas enough to know them to be a reliable source of honest income, and most of them made efforts to at least be professional toward their kruusta patrons. For Aria, chatting with them had become her primary source of social interaction.
As the woman departed, Aria dove into her meal. Despite eating a sizable breakfast of rabbit and eggs before they had left their last camp, Aria’s stomach was behaving as if she had not eaten in several days. Her hunger plagued her often of late; she suspected it to be another symptom of her conversion process. With the edge to her hunger finally abating, she scanned the common room again. Still she saw no sign of either Kharra or Zephyron.
Aria caught Gwin’s eye from across the room. Within moments the woman stepped up beside her. “Did you need something more?” she asked.
“I am staying here with two associates. One is a young woman with dark-brown hair about this high,” Aria said, using her hand to denote Kharra’s height. “The other is a tall, young-looking, very handsome gentleman with long white hair.”
“Oh, you can’t mistake that one!” replied the woman with bubbly glee in her voice. “They both left about an hour before you came down.”
“Did they have their packs with them?” Aria asked.
“Oh, no, they said they were just going out to explore the city, but they were both dressed up far too nicely for exploring, if you ask me.”
Aria exhaled. “Thank you,” she said.
Taking her leave from the din of the Wild Mercer, Aria stretched her legs along the stone walkway that lined the cobblestone street. She started toward the stables to check on Xierex, but a familiar mental voice entered her mind. Aria, we are across the street if you wish to join us.
The kruusta chuckled out loud, earning herself a concerned glance from a passerby. The man recognized what she was and walked faster. I was just wondering where you two had run off to, she said as she turned her attention to the Golden Horseman. How’d you guys get in there without an invitation? They have to be guarding the door with such important guests staying there.
Oh, you heard that the crown prince was here?
I heard that a prince was there but not the crown prince.
When Zephyron realized there were important officials here, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to mingle. To answer your question, Zephyron charmed a group of them as they headed into the Golden Horsemen, and the guards assumed we were part of the entourage. I left information with the guards at the door to keep their eyes open for you.
Aria groaned to herself and shook her head. In all her years of service, she had only been to about a dozen major social gatherings, and each time she had felt out of place. I’ll be there in a moment. Aria looked down at her standard kruusta clothing and sighed.
As if anticipating her thought, Kharra’s mind voice added, Check the wardrobe in your room.
Aria cocked her head and returned to the inn. She opened the wardrobe, and sure enough there hung a long gown the color of blue ice. When did you have a chance—
You nap; I shop, Kharra replied. Hurry, come join us.
Aria chuckled. The energy of youth, she thought to herself as she pulled the gorgeous gown from the wardrobe and held it up in front of her. It had been years since she had last worn a dress. Without delay, she stripped out of her kruusta gear and stepped into the gown. It was designed to look like two layered pieces, but in fact, it was a single piece. The gown was made from soft, flowing ice-blue velvet with a darker blue-on-blue, leaf-patterned silken center. The top portion of the overdress laced up in the front just under her bosom. The long sleeves opened wide at the cuffs with a trailing edge dangling beyond the reach of her hands. The inserts of the cuffs were also in the same deep-blue color and material as the dress’s center. The left shoulder had a slit and some sort of flower-looking decoration. Aria realized it would accommodate and camouflage the crystal protrusions on her shoulder.
Once dressed, Aria looked back in the wardrobe and found a pair of matching blue slippers. She groaned a little bit to herself as she tried to put them on. Possessed of feet a bit larger than the average woman, she had to work to make them fit. Kharra’s guess at her foot size was close but not perfect; Aria’s feet were going to be sore afterward.
The small mirror in her room was insufficient for a full-length view of herself, but at least she was able to take a glance at the top half of herself. “What am I doing?” she said lightheartedly. Satisfied, she grabbed her kruusta medallion from her normal gear, tucked it under the laces of her bodice, and headed out the door.
At the bottom of the stairs, the serving girl Gwin caught her eye. The young woman’s eyebrows shot up, but then she smiled broadly. She gave Aria a nod of approval. With an indifferent shrug, Aria left the Wild Mercer and strode across the street to the Golden Horseman.
The soft material of Aria’s slippers made no sound as she approached the expansive pillar-lined porch of the expensive establishment; it was quite different from the metal clink of her boots to which she was accustomed. The doorman and accompanying guards waited silently.
“Name?” the doorman asked.
“Kruusta Aria,” she responded neutrally.
The doorman pursed his lips doubtfully, the dress throwing him off.
Aria showed him a fox-like smile as she pulled her small silver-and-gold medallion from her bodice and flashed it in the torchlight.
For extra confirmation the man glanced at the hand that produced the medallion. He recognized the large crystal embedded there and cleared his throat nervously. Without glancing at the scroll in his hands, the man nodded. One of the guards opened the door for her. “Enjoy your evening,” said the doorman.
Aria stepped into the foyer, and no less than a dozen people turned to look at her, some less obvious than others. As she passed by attendees, whispers of “kruusta” began bouncing around the vaulted domed room. Keeping her face neutral despite her annoyance, Aria scanned the area for her companions. The space was wide and circular, supported by six carved inner pillars and eight similarly carved outer pillars. A domed ceiling vaulted a second story above the floor. The artwork on the dome was divided into s
ix segments with each segment delineated by a differently themed seam. Each segment itself revealed a mural of a forest skyline and mountains as if the dome were windows looking out into a vast wilderness. Circling the lower portion of the dome was a series of leaf-shaped windows. Below the windows circled another mural, this one resembling vines crawling along a trellis. Near each pillar sat a pair of small trees in giant carved stone pots. People wove in and out of the pillars, making it difficult to keep sight of any one person for long.
Word of the crown prince’s arrival had certainly spread. Merchants, politicians, and even a number of guild masters and journeymen from every craft in the city, all in their best finery, gathered around in groups both large and small. Each held a drink—some two—in their hands and seemed to be enjoying everything such a rare gathering offered.
Aria, come through the foyer. We’re in the room beyond.
Thank you, she thought in return as she wove her way between clusters of attendees.
The room beyond the foyer was the great hall. A rectangular room, the great hall had two large white stone hearths in either of the far corners of the room. A series of large, multipaned windows lined the wall between the two hearths, and long white drapes, pulled back and bound with golden ropes, hung around each window. Gold metalwork trimmed the panels of each wall, and golden multitiered candelabras danced up the walls at regular intervals, all out of reach of any of the attendees. Carvings and decorations, also in gold, filled up every inch of space on the walls.
A troupe of musicians—two drummers, a guitarist, two flutists, a zitherist, and a fiddler—had arranged themselves in front of the windowed wall and were playing a lively tune to which most of the occupants of the room were dancing. Aria skirted along the outside of the partygoers, hoping to spot her companions and using her height to peek over most other heads. At last the familiar richness of Zephyron’s laugh filled her ears, drawing her to the far right side of the large room. Then she spotted his unmistakable head of white hair. Sitting on a high-backed white sofa, his eyes acknowledged her immediately, but he continued his conversation with the man sitting in the elaborately carved chair to his right.
