Not in Llycaelon, there a name portrays the true nature of its bearer, Brant automatically thought the words of the old saying. He almost spoke them aloud, but kept his mouth firmly closed, not willing to say anything that might give the wizard a clue to his origin.
“What else would you learn?” he asked instead.
“Where do you come from?” Scelwhyn asked. “Why do you live with Arnaud and his family? What are your future plans?”
“I am a traveler,” Brant said honestly. “I have been many places, and I have made many places my home. I live with Arnaud’s family because they offered me a roof over my head, a decent job, and three meals a day. But most of all, they offered me their friendship, which is more than I have had in a long time. I stay with them because they have become my family. As for my plans, I had thought to work alongside my brother and live in peace.”
Scelwhyn nodded, seemingly satisfied. King Jairem turned back to Arnaud. “I have named you as my heir,” he said, “and I am sure you want to know exactly what that means for you.”
Arnaud nodded wordlessly.
“It means that you have been granted the greatest honor I can bestow. It means that when I die, all of this will pass to you,” Jairem said, waving an arm. “It also means that until I die, you may continue to live your life much as you have done in the past. No one knows what you look like or where you live. You will not be bothered by admirers wandering through your house and upsetting your life, at least, not yet,” the king shrugged. “I have often said that it is impossible to keep anything a secret from the people. No matter how well the Royal House guards something, there are always rumors flying about among the commoners, and those rumors are often closer to the truth than one might like. In this case, only Scelwhyn and I know your identity. Your privacy, as short-lived as it may be from this point on, is why I did not tell you beforehand nor introduce you physically to the people.”
Brant found himself nodding approvingly, though he stopped himself before either the king or his wizard could notice. Arnaud sighed heavily.
“Can I refuse this honor?”
King Jairem looked shocked. “Of course not! You are the true heir. You cannot deny your birthright. You cannot deny your countrymen.”
“Well,” Scelwhyn said, “that is not entirely true, Your Majesty.”
“What?” King Jairem asked in disbelief.
Scelwhyn seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, but at length he spoke, “A child of Llian still remains.”
“A child of Llian? What do you mean?”
“A direct descendent. I do not know who it is or where he or she is, but I know that one exists. A spell, forged long ago, will only fail when the line of Llian disappears from Aom-igh, and for now, the spell holds strong.”
Brant looked confused. “I thought you said Arnaud’s line was descended from Llian himself?”
“Indirectly.” Scelwhyn replied. “The line Jairem and Arnaud are from is technically Veli’s.”
“Veli?”
“Llian’s brother,” Arnaud replied automatically. “I thought everyone knew about him.”
King Jairem nodded tersely. “Be that as it may, this child of Llian is hidden from us. You, Arnaud, are the only choice left. It is to you that the crown must pass.”
Arnaud sat in stubborn silence. After a long pause, Brant spoke, “May I talk to Arnaud for a moment?”
“Of course.”
Brant turned to Arnaud. “You said you wanted an adventure. Well, here it is. I wanted to warn you before, but I didn’t think it was important. I will warn you now; adventures rarely, if ever, end. Once you step out on one you can never leave it behind; it follows you forever. Even if you make it home unharmed, you will never make it home unchanged.”
Arnaud looked up at his friend, and there was a deep pain in his brown eyes. “I don’t want an adventure then. I just want to go home.”
“Arnaud, remember what you told me on our journey here, about what you would do if you were king?”
“I said I would pour myself into this country as a piece of land and work it, cultivate it, and help it grow and thrive like a precious crop. It’s the only thing I know.”
“Being king may not allow you to grow old cultivating food crops, but you may be able to help cultivate your neighbors, the people of Aom-igh. What better purpose could you have? What better purpose for a king? Adventures don’t end, and they very rarely turn out the way we expect them to, if they did, where would be the adventure?”
“I’d feel better about this adventure with you beside me. But since this responsibility falls on me, I suppose it is mine to bear. Very well,” Arnaud raised his voice, turning back to face the king and his wizard, “you leave me no choice. Truly, I wonder if I ever had a choice, and even if you gave me one, I suspect that, in the end, I would find I did not really have one after all. How will I know when it is time for me to return?”
“I will send you a summons,” King Jairem said, “or Scelwhyn will. He has promised to stay until you are established as the recognized ruler of Aom-igh.”
“You are leaving, too?” Arnaud cried, turning to Scelwhyn. “Must I do this all on my own?”
Scelwhyn’s eyes were sympathetic. “I will see you to the throne, and teach you much, but my time is quickly coming to an end, and I cannot remain forever. Besides, you will not need me, I do not think.” His gaze fell on Brant. “You have strength and wisdom surrounding you, and you will have your own trusted advisor, of that I am confident.”
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
“Well, well, most entertaining, most entertaining indeed,” Kiernan Kane said aloud to no one in particular as he packed up his cart, preparing to move along. “A commoner to become a king? Good thing we decided it was time to revisit Aom-igh, eh, Silver? Just in time to see all the excitement. Ah me, will the wonders never end? Poor young Arnaud is most likely feeling rather overwhelmed right now. The real surprise of the day was seeing the son of Stiorne here with him. Who knew we would find him here, of all places? That was not the plan... well, Cruithaor Elchiyl knows what He is doing. We must continue as ever to trust His plan.” The minstrel hummed a tune that was gratingly off-key as he hopped aboard his cart. “Gee-up, Silver! Hey-ho!” he shouted at his old gray mule.
The gray mule flicked an ear in annoyance, as if to say, “Yes? And what exactly do you expect me to do about it?” Then he began to plod his way down the path, the brightly colored cart bumping along behind him.
❖ ❖ ❖
The trip home was uneventful and somber. Arnaud did not speak a single word, and Brant was content to travel in silence. As the house came into sight, Arnaud shifted uneasily and stopped his horse.
“What do I tell them, Brant?” he asked, breaking the silence at last.
“I don’t know, perhaps you don’t need to tell them anything.”
“I can’t do that!”
“Then tell them what happened,” Brant said. “Tell them you’re to be the next king of Aom-igh, they knew your parents, surely they must have prepared for something like this. They must have had some idea your mother was nobility.”
“I just… I don’t want to hurt them.”
“You won’t. You didn’t ask for this. They’ll understand.”
They arrived at the barn just as the sky began to grow dark. After caring for their horses, they trudged into the house, tired and hungry. Aunt Euphie met them at the door with hugs and exclamations of how brave her two boys were and how it must have been such a wonderful adventure. She told them they must come indoors and eat dinner now, before they said another word. Brant laughed inwardly a bit at this, since she had not given them the opportunity to say a single word, but he did not complain.
Euphie and Barr watched them eat, their eyes full of questions and their faces expectant. Finally, Arnaud pushed his plate away and sighed.
“Now that was good!”
Brant took the dishe
s to the sink to let them soak, and then he sat back down at the table. “Thanks, Aunt Euphie,” he said, “that was much better than what Arnaud and I managed to cook over our campfire!”
“And it was ten times better than what we were given at the inn!” Arnaud said adamantly.
“I thought you said you enjoyed the food at the inn,” Brant looked puzzled.
“I had to be polite,” Arnaud confessed.
Euphie beamed with pleasure. “Now, tell us everything. How was your trip?”
“Well,” Brant began casually, “we ran into a few bandits who tried to take our horses, and then we were attacked by this dragon who wanted to eat us…”
Arnaud laughed and cut him off, “We did no such thing! Don’t listen to a word he says, Aunt Euphie! The fact is: the trip was so uneventful that Brant apparently seems to think it needs embellishing.”
Euphie relaxed visibly. Brant put an arm around her shoulders. “I was only joking, Aunt Euphie,” he said apologetically. “The trip was as boring as could be, both ways.”
“You saw the palace?” Aunt Euphie asked. “And the king?”
Arnaud nodded. “Yes, and the king came right down among the people and made his announcement…” here he faltered a bit, as if suddenly remembering what had actually happened at the naming.
“And who is the heir?” Uncle Barr prompted.
There was an uncomfortable silence. Brant and Arnaud shared a glance. Arnaud’s face had drained of color and he looked panicked.
“Well, he did announce his heir, right?” Uncle Barr said, trying again, a little puzzled by the way that Brant and Arnaud suddenly looked as though they were sitting on pins.
“Ye-es,” Arnaud squirmed as though he was being interrogated.
“Well?” Aunt Euphie leaned forward. “Come on lad, don’t keep us guessing like this! It’s too cruel! Who is the heir to the throne?”
Arnaud let out a deep breath and his shoulders slumped. “I am,” he said quietly.
❖ ❖ ❖
“Zara!” the exasperated voice called.
The frustrated young woman marched down the corridor, looking in each room. Where was that harebrained…?
“Calyssia? What’s wrong?” Leila asked, holding a tiger-striped gray kitten in her arms, her violet eyes wide and curious.
“It’s Zara,” Calyssia said in frustration, “she’s gone missing again. I know she’s hiding from her lessons, it’s not as though she makes her dislike of them much of a secret,” she ground her teeth. “One would think she didn’t want to learn!”
“Zara has nothing against learning,” Leila’s tone was placating. “And she doesn’t dislike your lessons as much as you think she does. It’s just that she wants to learn different things too.”
Calyssia snorted in ill-disguised disgust. “Yes, different things, useless things if you ask me, fencing and archery and horseback riding! She climbs trees, dances around barefoot, makes daisy chains, and sings to the birds! I tell you, that girl is a nymph in disguise!”
“Besides, she’s quite good at magic already,” Leila continued, as if Calyssia had not spoken. “She practices all the time, when you’re not looking. You know Father has been teaching her all sorts of things as well. She has a natural talent for it, and you insist on teaching her the basics. No wonder she grows bored of her lessons!”
“True. But that gives her no right… the basics are important... oh, why do I even bother? I swear; if she is down in the courtyard fencing with the squires again, I’ll… I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” Zara asked, dancing through the doorway, a crown of daisies in her long, golden hair.
“Where have you been?” Calyssia demanded.
“Oh, here and there,” Zara said vaguely.
In a glance, Calyssia took in the bare feet, the small tear in the skirt of her dress, and the leaf in her youngest sister’s hair. She put her hands on her hips and glared.
“You were climbing trees again, weren’t you?”
“No,” Zara said innocently, plucking the offending leaf from her hair, “just one.”
“Will you never grow up?” Calyssia demanded.
“Why should I?” Zara laughed back. “You’re grown up enough for the four of us.” She danced up the stairs to her room.
Calyssia stared after her in complete and total exasperation, and then she threw up her hands in defeat, muttering threats under her breath. Leila laughed as well, and she turned and walked back the way that she had come, leaving Calyssia mad enough to breathe fire. It was at that moment that Dylanna appeared.
“Patience, sister,” she said calmly. “Zara is young yet, barely seventy. She is different from the rest of us in many other ways as well.”
“She’s an idealistic young imp,” Calyssia growled.
“True, but that is no crime. She will grow up quickly enough; do not force her to do so any faster than she must.”
“One would never guess her to be a wizardess, Dylanna,” Calyssia muttered. Then she relaxed and put a hand on her head. “She acts like a normal girl, and I suppose that’s fine in itself, but she pays no mind to her lessons, and she treats magic as though it were a toy!”
“Have you spoken to Father about her?”
“No, it is my job to train the girl; I just wish there were someone else who could do it, why should she listen to me? I’m only her sister, and I’m no good as a teacher, I know I get too impatient with her, and she gets impatient with me. Leila is right. A real teacher is what Zara needs.”
“There is always…”
“No! Don’t even think it.”
“Calyssia, you must cease this foolishness. I know you are grieving, but you must not take it out on Zara, she is too young to understand.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry. But having a dragon teach her is out of the question. They left our world, long ago.”
“Father thinks they may return... he thinks they’ll have to. They weren’t meant to live underground.”
“I hope he’s right. I hate to think of them down there forever.”
“You could help them... if...”
Calyssia’s shoulders slumped. “Perhaps it is time for me to leave. I am, after all, supposed to be the gatekeeper, and I ought to be near the gate. These bits and pieces of visits aren’t good enough. I’m supposed to be protecting Krayghentaliss, not passing by the door three times a year to check on it.”
“You are right, to do your job well, you must be near the gate, but you cannot hide behind it either. Graldon is gone, and I know it hurts, but you cannot change it. Dragons have taught us before, perhaps that is what Zara needs. You can’t allow your grief to get in the way of what may be for the best.”
“I just… I can’t believe he’s gone,” Calyssia whispered brokenly. “I keep saying I should return to the gate, and it’s true, I do need to go back soon. But I am so afraid; I don’t want the flood of memories. I don’t want to be near it, I sometimes think that I don’t want to be Gatekeeper anymore, if I could only give the job to another….”
Dylanna touched her older sister’s shoulder gently. “The pain will never truly go away, but I promise it will get easier.”
Zara skipped back down the stairs, no less exuberant for her older sister’s reprimand of the moment before. “Calyssia, I am ready for my lessons now,” she announced cheerfully.
“Oh you are? Well then, Your Highness, let us get started.”
Zara did not notice the sarcasm, and so it rolled over her like the wind that rustled in the long grass. “What will I learn today? Do you think you could teach me…?”
Dylanna stared after the two of them, a look of contentment on her face. Zara was the strongest of all of them, but she did not care for the magic. As Calyssia said, the girl viewed it as a toy. Perhaps she would never realize her full potential, but Dylanna was not worried about her youngest sister, Zara would always come out on top. She was the kind who would work hard f
or the things she did want, and that was really all that mattered.
It was Calyssia that Dylanna worried about. She was still grieving over the loss of Graldon. Calyssia had been a dragon-ward, among the last of such special children. Since Calyssia, not one had been born, where once there had been a dragon-ward for every dragon that breathed in Aom-igh. It was believed that this decline in dragon-wards was the result of the myth-folk departing Aom-igh and retreating to Krayghentaliss. Graldon, king of the dragons, had chosen exile rather than risk great slaughter in a war that could only be waged, but never won.
Krayghentaliss was an underground realm of tunnels, caves, and life unknown to the men of Aom-igh, with the exception of Scelwhyn, his family, and King Jairem. It was a closely guarded secret by those who knew.
Graldon had asked Calyssia to be the Gatekeeper to Krayghentaliss and she had agreed. She alone would hold the power of allowing people to pass from the upper realm of Aom-igh down into the world of the myth-folk. But when Graldon died, Calyssia had returned in mourning to the palace and her family. In Dylanna’s opinion, the mourning had gone on long enough. Calyssia had a job to do, whether Graldon was alive or not, and Dylanna was just as capable of training young Zara as Calyssia.
❖ ❖ ❖
There was a moment of shocked silence, as Barr and Euphie processed the words that had just come out of Arnaud’s mouth. They stared at Arnaud, and then at each other. They looked to Brant for confirmation of this wild tale, and Brant nodded.
“It’s true.”
Euphie stood up and walked around the table where she hugged Arnaud tightly. She seemed to be both laughing and crying at the same time.
“We should have told you,” she apologized. “I know we should have told you, but we never thought it would come to this. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”
“You knew?” Barr nodded silently and Arnaud stared at him. “So… then you believe me?”
“Why shouldn’t we believe you?” Euphie asked.
Arnaud merely shook his head, words failing him.
“I think Arnaud expected you to be as surprised as he was,” Brant explained.
Second Son (The Minstrel's Song Book 2) Page 32
