The Royalty of course were used to these inflated rumors, and were adept at finding out what had really occurred. Of course, they couldn't go too deep where as they would seem interested, petty things like that were below members of the Royal Court. There were a few members of the Royal line that were a bit more verbal about such things however, so if the right people heard about it, it would quickly spread to the entire line.
Those people present who represented the Merchants guilds in Safeharbor had dealt with Nim before, so his comments wouldn't elicit much conversation amongst that faction. Yes, some had seen the young boy by his side at a few business meetings in which Victor would occasionally clarify a point of fact in which either party involved had not stated fully or left out entirely. The fact that the boy had called Nim father would elicit much more conversation and speculation by this faction. Their conversations would of course compound upon the other rumors going about through the nobles.
Nim had explained the effect in grueling detail to Victor earlier this evening. Victor thought the plan depended on the fact that people would gossip about such a thing, but he agreed that it made sense in theory, like a pebble rolling down hill would gather others and soon you could have a rock-slide. Nim gave Victor his wait-and-see smile when he told him he thought they would have more important things to talk about.
As they approached the massive golden gates of the castle the outfits were becoming more grand, and the jewelry more expensive and extravagant. Victor hated to admit it, but the outfits had also become more frilly just like Nim had said they would, though Victor had noticed that these people's amount of frills were much more akin to the outfit in which Nim had dressed. It took all of Victor's willpower to stop from frowning as he realized this fact. They slowly walked up the granite stairs which lead to the entrance hall of the castle. Entering the castle Victor thought that the Building exemplified the luxuriance in which the Royal family was supposed to live. The floors were a beautiful gray marble, and the pillars that ran the length of the hall on either side were crafted from blue marble. Looking up at the ceiling Victor was amazed to see what appeared to be a battle in the clouds. It, like the Symbol of Safeharbor in Nim's Mansion was an illusion created by a Shaper that gave it depth that no artist could hope to duplicate on a flat surface. Victor thought that the mage that had created this image had to have been an artist in his own right however, maybe even the one that had done the symbol for Nim.
There were doors spaced at equal intervals along the sides of the hall's considerable length. The hall itself ended in a grand staircase of white marble with a golden balustrade running along both sides. Victor knew that anyone standing at the head of the stairs would be able to see the entire hall, and from the dull roar that could be heard he knew that whoever stood there would also be able to project their voice throughout the hallway.
Nim had given Victor a detailed layout of the castle a few months earlier along with several other important structures in the city. None of the side doors were open so that left everyone to mill about in the hallway conversing as servants walked around with drinks and appetizers. Victor knew from the diagrams that if he were to open any of the doors on the right side of the hall he would find a dining area four times the size of the one in Nim's mansion. If he were to open the doors on the left side he would find the grand and immense ballroom in which Nim had noted that a large portion of his residence would fit inside of comfortably. After seeing the immensity of the entrance hall Victor no longer thought that note was an exaggeration. Having been informed of the artwork that covered the walls Victor was prepared enough not to gape at everything even though he felt the descriptions had been highly inadequate.
Nim leaned down to Victor and whispered in his ear. “Recognize any of these people?”
Victor's first though was How am I supposed to recognize anyone? However as he started looking around he found the descriptions he had been memorizing for the last few months seemed to be coming alive before him. He looked at Nim and nodded.
“Good,” Nim said in a slightly louder voice as he straightened and headed towards the nearest set of people.
“Duke Wellington, So good to see you, and Elizabeth how are you?
“Why Nim Mithriannil, it has been awhile, I was sorry to hear about your uncle.” The gray haired man intoned as his wife held out her hand for Nim to kiss. Nim's description of the man had been incredibly accurate right down the way he stuck his left hand into his waistband, and the small scar under his right eye. The Duke would say that the scar was from a hunting accident, but Nim's notes said that it actually came from something that his mistress had thrown at him years before.
“Well he died more than a year ago, and he lived a long and full life. One can't ask for more than that.” Nim said with more of a mournful inflection in his voice than Victor thought he actually felt.
Duke Wellington said “here, here” and took a drink from his glass as he looked down at Victor.
“Why Nim, who is this darling young man?” Elizabeth Wellington said in a tone that made Victor feel a kid. Which after a moment of thought he had to grudgingly agree with, no matter what his experiences had brought him he was still only eight and a half. He still hadn't learned a drop in the bucket of what he would someday know.
Nim affected the look of snapping out of a deep thought rather well, Victor noted. He looked around like he was wondering what she had been talking about before his eyes settled on Victor. “Oh yes,” he intoned and stated simply. “This is Victor Deus, My son.”
It was very simply stated, but it couldn't have been phrased any other way for better effect. The Wellingtons looked at Nim as if he had gone mad and then at each other at the thought that maybe they were the ones that had gone mad instead.
“We hadn't heard that the Mithriannil line had a new benefactor!” The Duke stated in a flustered tone that his wife seemed to agree with.
“Ah well yes, That is because there has yet to be a new Mithriannil born.” Nim said this in a somber tone that Victor knew wasn't false, before resuming in a normal voice. “Victor is my adopted son, and I couldn't wish for better from my own offspring.” At the end of the statement Nim had affected a cheery tone and put his hand on Victor's shoulder which Victor knew was his cue to take up the conversation.
“Victor Deus, at your service Sire.” Victor made a stately bow before turning to the Lady Wellington. “And my Lady, my father has told me that your beauty was renowned, yet he failed to mention your stately grace.” Victor lied as he took her hand and kissed it. Nim had detailed her beauty, her grace, and some of the other habits she seemed to share with her husband. Though she had grown older the vibrancy of her youth still shone through.
“How are your children fairing? I had heard that Peter Wellington the second was now training with the army and will soon attain the rank of captain. Quite an accomplishment for one so young.” Victor stated this in the most serious tone he could affect. By all of Nim's accounts of Wellington Jr. he was a simple minded man who was good with a sword and would rise to captain mainly because of who his father was. However, nothing his father could do or say would ever get him a promotion beyond that. On the opposite side of the coin there was Katlyn Wellington who was by all accounts as lovely as her mother had been twenty years before, and Nim said twice as intelligent as either of the Wellingtons. Nim had left a side note in his papers saying that he believed that she was actually the daughter of the High Magus who lead the Mages guild. “I also hear that Katlyn has been accepted into the ranks of the Mages, and after only fifteen years of study since the age of ten I believe.”
Nim's hand on Victor's shoulder became a little firmer in what Victor knew as the equivalent to a 'good job' from his mentor. While the Wellingtons could only stand their gaping at Victor.
The next forty-five minutes continued on in much the same manner. Nim would take him to a group of nobles, merchants, or dignitaries and nobility from other cities and wait until they mentioned V
ictor and then allowed the conversation to go into his students capable hands. Victor knew that it all was a test, and he was determined to pass with flying colors.
Everyone who was going to arrive at the ball would have by now, and they had been given time to mingle. It was no surprise to Victor when the trumpets blared the royal call to arms. He and Nim quietly turned towards the staircase which they had discreetly positioned themselves in front of only minutes before.
Chapter 10
Royal Engagement
Year 3043 AGD
Month of Preparation
Night of the Third Day
Continent of Terroval
City of Safeharbor
Royal Quarter
Royal Palace
The people that funneled out of the great gilded doors at the top of the staircase were, what Victor assumed would be, the most intimidating and powerful procession that he would ever see exit one room. Even in a space the size of the Grand Hall their presence's commanded attention.
As the doors opened Victor could almost hear the sound of hundreds of heads turning as the murmured conversations died out completely. The weaselly looking man who at the top right of the stairs would announce each person as they walked onto the landing above. He motioned to the trumpeters as they were ending their second round of the Royal call to arms, and they stopped playing immediately.
“His Royal Majesty, Theodrik Theromvore the second, and Her Royal Majesty, Sophiana Theromvore.” The weasel like man intoned with a resonance that Victor would never expect to be able to come out of a man so small.
Theodrik Theromvore looked every bit a King, he was dressed in golden robes that were lined in the black and dark purple of the Protectorate. At age forty two, he was just starting to show the signs of time catching up to him, the most noticeable sign being the crow's feet which framed his hazel eyes. His robes hid the well muscled and fit frame that Victor knew the man possessed. The Royal family had a long tradition of training with the knights until they assumed the throne, and it was expected that they keep in battle ready shape until the day they die, or acceded the throne to their heir. His dark brown hair, which had several strands of gray now, was concealed by the golden crown he wore upon his brow. The crown was simple as Victor thought a crown could get. It was a band of gold with several points, it had writing around it that Victor wouldn't be able to make out from where he was, but knew from Nim's notes that the crown simply stated “Watch, Listen, Act” in Draconic. A warning from Dalton Theromvore to his predecessors to never become too comfortable, and never dally, or all would be lost.
Sophiana Theromvore wore a white dress with golden trim that flowed behind her which complimented the robes her husband was wearing nicely. Nim's notes said that she was as beautiful at thirty eight as she had been when Theodrik had married her nineteen years before, and seeing her now Victor didn't doubt it as she seemed to float forward beside her husband. Dusty blonde hair flowed over her shoulders, framing her petite features, and accenting her sea-foam green eyes. Some of the Queens in the past had come from families that had sent their daughters to train with the knights or the mages, Sophiana was not one of those. She had been trained as a noble, and most considered her nothing more than a pretty face. Those that thought of her thus were wrong. She possessed a keen intellect and a deft mind for the politics of the world. In a sense she was more of a Queen than those who had been fighters or Mages.
“His Royal Highness, and Heir to the throne, Prince Theodrik Theromvore the third. Her Royal highness, Tatiana Theromvore, and His Royal Highness, Theodore Theromvore.” The man intoned in the same attention commanding voice.
Theodrik the third was a head shorter than his father and a hair taller than his mother. He had just celebrated his eighteenth birthday last month which was the Time of Storms. Dressed in a much more comfortable looking outfit than his father, you could tell that he was in a shape superior to that of his father. His hair and eyes were a near match to that of his father's. As expected of the Royal heir he trained with the Knights daily, and would until he took the throne.
Tatiana Theromvore looked much like mother must have when she was ten years old, though her hair was a bright red. Her green eyes were of a much clearer quality than that of her mother's however, and Nim had said that it seemed as if the girl could look into ones very soul. Victor now understood what he meant.
Theodore Theromvore age six trailed after his brother and sister in as regal a manner as he could. He seemed to be a mix of his mother and his father, with a light brown hair color and hazel-green eyes. He would begin his training with the church of Cypheria soon as a cleric or a priest.
“His Majesty's Royal Advisor's; Miss Analya Theromvore, Battle Sorcerer and daughter of High Lieutenant Commander and Lord General Theromvore, and her husband Lagelion Daystar, former member of the High Elven guard of Eske'Taure.”
Analya Theromvore was a member of the Sorcerer's council, and a very powerful Battle Sorcerer. When the Sorcerer's guild had approached her father with the intent of training Analya the Lord General of the Infantry was appalled by the idea, he had said his daughter would not be a weak Mage! It was then that Simon Windsbane, who had been Tetriarch of the Sorcerer's at the time, had assured her father that she would be trained as a Battle Sorcerer. Since the General had been greatly impressed by a young Battle Sorcerer named Zander Halcyon he agreed to let her training proceed. He has commented since then that he is one of the proudest father's in Safeharbor. Analya possessed the beauty of her mother, who would be on the landing shortly, in a less grand scale. Her sandy blonde hair fell to her shoulders, and her sky blue eyes shown brightly. She stood a head shorter than her Elven husband.
Lagelion Daystar was large for an elf, not abnormally tall, just large. His muscles were less of a dense concentration than many others of his race, and more like those of a human warrior, bulky and intimidating. Like most elves he stood over six feet in height, his face was slender, and his lobe-less ears ended in points. Not even Nim could find out much about Lagelion, the Government of Eske'Taure wouldn't comment on his current position, and rather seemed to ignore that the man existed. It was known that he is three hundred and forty eight years old, still below middle aged for an elf. His hair was a silver sheen, and his eyes the color of mercury. His pale skin also possessed a slight silver sheen.
They King stood at the head of the steps with the Queen on his right and his heir on his left followed by the princess and her younger brother. Analya took up a position to the right of the Queen, with Lagelion to her right and slightly behind in a clearly protective position. The next few people to come out of the doors would file in to the left of the royal family.
“Arch Magus, Simon Windsbane”
Simon Windsbane was the Arch Magus, which was the head of the council of the Mages, Sorcerer's, and Priests. Nim knew for a fact that the man was one hundred and thirty four years of age, yet he still moved like a man a third of that. His gray hair was short, and his face was clean shaven as a silent protest against the classic depiction of older Mages, which he despised. He was considered the strongest Mage in the world, and perhaps the strongest that has ever lived, and it's said his intelligence matches his power. His sky blue eyes almost crackled like lightning crossing a clear sky. His presence was awe inspiring, Victor had to stop himself when he realized he was gaping, and he was glad he was in front of the rest of the crowd so that no one, but those above him could have seen him doing it.
“High Mage, Dodrick Flanteel; Tetriarch, Zander Halcyon; and High Priestess, Megan Lane.” The little man said with a pause slightly longer than it should have been, Victor was glad that the old Mage had effected the announcer as much as he had himself. When the remaining three members of the Mages council stepped forward to take their place beside the Arch Magus Victor was yet again gaping open mouthed, and noticed that Nim was making sure that no one had seen him gawking.
Dodrick Flanteel was one of the few Dwarves in the history of the Protec
torate to take up the mantle of Mage. Sorcerers were becoming more common amongst the Dwarves for the reasons of blood that everyone knew some of, but not many spoke of. He moved up through the ranks of the Mages due to his keen intellect and sheer strength of will, which Victor could see was quite substantial. Nim's notes said the Dwarf was Four hundred and fifty six years old which is pre-middle aged for the Dwarves. His Red hair that covers his head and face were a match for the fiery temperament and the little bit of patience that he held for fools. In this, Nim and Victor were of the same mind as he.
Tetriarch Zander Halcyon stepped up next to the sturdy dwarf, and Victor heard a collective intake of breath from many of the women in the room, and some of the men. This was a man that legends were made of, and whose exploits would be sung for a thousand years to come. At forty seven years of age this man was in a shape that anyone would be proud of, even amongst the ranks of the Knights of the Protectorate, let alone a sorcerer. His corded muscles were that of a arena fighter, and he had the grace of one who is intimate with the dance of the blades. Not only was this man a sorcerer, but he was also the highest ranking Battle Sorcerer.
The battle sorcerers emerged some time after the reforming of the city, and had become instrumental in it's defense ever since. They are sorcerers who focus their powers into things that aid in battles. Whether that be throwing a fireball or bolts of lightning at the enemy, or Shielding their forces from another Mage. It is said that not many survive the training in which they subject their pupils to, but if they cannot handle the training, it is believed amongst their order that they would not survive the battlefield either. Ever since their inception they have been regarded even above the clerics and priests in import on a battlefield, which of course the churches bristle at if anyone dares to point it out. All of which only half explained the awe that Zander inspired amongst the crowd.
Victor Deus (Heritage of the Blood Book 1) Page 20
