by Meg Cowley
"Sir Edmund? I received no word of your arrival, I fear you have caught me most unprepared. Is all well?" Lord Karn asked.
"No, Lord Karn, I bring tidings which I wish were not true.” Edmund paused. He glanced towards Eve. “Perhaps Eve, you might retire. I fear my news not fit for your ears.”
Eve departed with reluctance.
Edmund drew in a deep breath, and met Karn's gaze. "Naisa has been murdered,” he said. A muffled cry emanated from the other side of the door. Edmund lowered his voice further before continuing.
“Zaki has usurped the throne. I do not know the full details myself, it was all I could do to escape myself and bring you tidings, but seven nights past Zaki's murmurings of malcontent turned from nothing more than words to a full-blown overtaking of the capital. Pandora has fallen,” Edmund continued. Tears prickled his eyes as Karn sagged against his desk, white faced. “Soren escaped alongside me and I mean to follow him as soon as I may. The princess is unaccounted for.” The implications hung in the air.
“I had heard murmurings of this some days hence from passing traders. I dismissed such ridiculous claims as nothing more than fear mongering.” Karn shook his head in confusion. “I cannot understand that her own brother would do such a thing. If we have not heard these tidings from the despatch riders, then perhaps he seeks to hide it from us. I am at a loss as to what to say. Come, you must rest with us a while,” he insisted.
Edmund shook his head. “I cannot in good conscience do so, Karn. Soren will have already claimed sanctuary in the northern monastery. I left the prince on his way there, but I cannot disclose our business to you. I do not like to keep it from you – suffice to say it is vital to ensure Soren’s success in restoring peace, I assure you.”
“Worry not, I know what you speak of.” Karn bowed his head. “My brother spoke of the crown to me after he wed Naisa, though perhaps he ought not to. I believe you are correct in pursuing it, but Soren will need help. Is there any way I may be of assistance?”
“No,” Edmund replied. “The risk of sheltering me is enough. I apologise for bringing this burden but you needed to know the truth and I will confess I desired your advice. I would say to make your forces ready but do nothing. Zaki knows where your loyalties lie; at the first sign of a sword, he will crush you. All I would ask of you is to send an envoy to the Eldarkind. Mayhap they will help us again in what is to come as they helped us in our youth. Their freedoms could be at stake too. I doubt Zaki will tolerate them.”
“Indeed.” Karn rubbed his forehead. “It would do you well to rest up a while, but at the very least you must spend the night. I insist,” he said as Edmund protested. “You cannot gallivant around the country with no rest; we are all older than when we did such things rashly.”
He smiled with fondness at Edmund, all sense of formality now gone between them and stood up to embrace him. “It’s good to see you, old friend. I wish it were under happier tidings. If you do not mind, I will need to set things in motion now, but Eve will see to it that you are comfortable and you shall join us for dinner.”
Edmund bowed his head. “Certainly, friend. I am truly sorry to be the one bringing such news.”
He found Eve outside wan faced and sat against the wall hugging her legs. Karn drew her up and held her close.
“You heard us?” he said softly. It was barely a question. She nodded into his chest. “Be brave then for our family, my little dove. We can grieve for your aunt later. There is still hope for your cousins.” He stepped backwards to smile at her. “Come, show Edmund to the large guest room.”
Eve led Edmund through corridors in silence with downcast eyes to a pleasant room overlooking the grounds, where she bade him farewell. Edmund watched her go. A new pity emerged for her as he realised her already small family had shrunk again. A servant soon appeared to prepare a bath and lay fresh clothes on an ornately carved four-poster bed that was draped in rich green fabrics. After days of sleeping rough, for Edmund, this kind of forest was a far sweeter resting place for him. Following a brisk wash, he dressed himself, only to fall asleep on the comfortable bed.
~
Edmund woke with a start as the door opened and a maid slipped inside. He watched as she bobbed her head towards him without a word, lit the small glass lamps around the room and left. Before long, a manservant came to guide him to where Karn and Eve awaited.
They sat in the dining room, both gazing over the town, which could be seen through the gallery of windows as pinpricks of light scattered through the dusk gloom. Karn gave a simple grace before all three tucked into their meal.
In honour of Edmund’s visit, Karn ordered a whole piglet with roasted vegetables, potatoes and gravy. Edmund partook eagerly and the meal was so rich his tongue tingled with every mouthful. His food had run out the day before and he could barely make himself eat with decorum. Yet he could not fail to notice that his companions were slow to eat and picked at their food.
“How is Dane?” Karn asked.
Edmund shook his head. “I know not. Soren and I fled quickly. I was unable to send a message, though I have since thought that a blessing. He is at our estate and distanced from events in Pandora. I am sure that he will be questioned. I hope that innocence and ignorance will be his shield. Still, I worry for him.”
Karn attempted to reassure him, but Edmund could not be comforted.
Wine goblets in hand – contents watered down for Eve – they began to discuss the unavoidable subject.
“I am sure, as she is heir to the house of Arrow that I may speak in front of Eve?” Edmund asked Karn, who sat at the opposite end of the table.
Karn nodded. His eyes flicked to his daughter who sat unusually quietly between them. “She is of an age where I am teaching her management of the county; I suppose she must know,” he said with reluctance.
“You know that Soren seeks the crown of the dragon kings at the northern monastery so that he may take the throne instead of Zaki?” Karn inclined his head. “Zaki will also pursue it when the mourning period ends today.
“I confess, I am unsure how well it is protected. We must ensure Zaki does not claim the crown whilst avoiding open provocations. He now commands the army. They will follow him without question as is their duty.”
“I agree, yet how to act?” said Karn. “I must stay here, yet I have no other generals to command. This county is not a large one and we have been at peace for many years. We need the Eldarkind’s council, but I have no one I could trust with a task so important and I cannot send you with your other duties.”
“What of me, father?” asked Eve unexpectedly. She leaned forwards. “I am your heir, I am worthy of your trust surely? Send me.”
“Eve, you are my daughter and so young. How could I send you out into the world at only seventeen, knowing of its dangers?” Karn said.
“Father you said it yourself. You’re preparing me for the role. The need is great and whether you like it or not, eventually I’ll have no choice but to go into the world. If you trust no one else, trust me.” Eve sat back in the deepening gloom. Her face was in shadow and Edmund could not fathom her mood.
“This is too grave a matter for me to decide with a head clouded by wine,” said her father indecisively. He massaged his forehead with one hand and abandoned his wine cup out of easy reach.
Edmund stirred. As he caught Eve’s gaze, he saw her hopeful, wide eyes. “What of this, Karn?” he proposed. “I must needs leave tomorrow. No,” he said and raised a hand as Karn began to protest. “I must. I thank you for your offer of hospitality, but I cannot avoid my duty to the prince. I will be travelling the North road. I could accompany Eve almost the entire way to Ednor if you would entrust her into my care.” He let the suggestion hang.
“Tomorrow.” Karn’s tone had a darkness to it and the word sounded like a curse. Silence held until he spoke again. “Could you not ask for counsel from Ednor on our behalf?” His doubtful tone betrayed the answer he expected.
“It would delay my return to
Soren by too long or I would not hesitate to do so,” Edmund said.
“I have a personal guard to accompany me the rest of the way,” Eve said.
“Assigning you a personal guard in the safety of Arlyn and sending them with you into the wilderness on a dangerous errand are two very different things, Eve,” her father replied.
“So why did you assign them at all if they are so unnecessary?”
“You know very well why. How else are you supposed to be trained in arms and kept safe on your little wanderings into the forest which are not so secret as you seem to think!” her father grumbled with a glare at her. Eve flushed red and hunched in her tall backed chair. “Remember, I employ them to keep you safe. Trust them and remember they report to me.”
“You expect me to trust them yet you will not do so,” she muttered, her tone rebellious. “Why should I trust them when they spy on me!”
“There is more to this than trusting your guards,” Karn said. Edmund thought his tone guarded.
“As always! You will not let me go to Ednor, no matter how many times I ask you. Why?”
“It is for the best,” Karn replied in an even tone.
“Argh! I hate it when you say that!” Eve pushed back her chair with a mighty shove and stormed out.
Edmund regarded Karn with questioning eyebrows. His friend had once more returned his forehead to his palm, head bowed. “You will have to let her go to Ednor someday,” Edmund dared venture.
“I know!” Karn snapped. “I’m sorry. I know,” he said more calmly. “I hoped this day would not come. I do not know how much longer I can stop her from travelling there. Sooner or later she will ignore what I say and go regardless.” He shrugged helplessly.
“What are you afraid of, though?”
Karn shook his head. “Many things. That she won’t reach Ednor safely, that she will, what she will find there, what she will think of me as a result, what she will do when she returns, if she will return.” He fell into silence and worried his forehead with his hand again.
“She will know you meant well,” Edmund said.
“Eve is young and she is my daughter; her blood runs hot. She will be angry, I know, and I fear her rashness.”
“She is your daughter and in time she will come to understand,” Edmund insisted. “Perhaps allowing her to go will help her to reconcile sooner, rather than letting it come to her running away.”
They fell into a companionable silence as the lamps burned lower around them, until Edmund’s head swam. He pushed back his chair, with a yawn.
“I must retire, please excuse me.” Edmund thanked Karn for his hospitality. His words were waved away with the familiarity of old friends. He paused with his hand on the door handle. Karn looked expectantly at him.
“I leave tomorrow morning,” Edmund repeated. “I know that it is not ideal, but you know that you can trust me to protect Eve and my offer stands to do so. For her sake and for ours consider it. We may need the Eldarkind’s help more than we can imagine.” He waited for a reply, however none came. He excused himself to bed, hoping that Karn would heed his words.
Soren
In the days since Edmund had ridden south for Arlyn, Soren had sought haven at the northern monastery as they had agreed. However, the sentries who stood around the entire perimeter foiled him: their presence forcing him to skulk deep in the woodlands to conceal himself. It was not unguarded as Edmund had expected, however the guards were not monks and Soren did not want to trust them.
After three nights spent sleeping fitfully under bushes and in concealed hollows, he felt exhausted and aching. Worse still, his remaining food had run out the previous morning, but at the very least, he could find fresh water in the form of small becks running down through the hills. His stomach rumbled angrily as he wet his lips and sat up to consider his position once more.
Situated in the middle of the forest, perimeter walls, two men tall and one man wide, surrounded a peaceful inner space cleared of trees to accommodate the range of buildings, gardens and farm space. The monastery itself was several stories high, perched on the top of a small rise within the walls. Defenders could repel attackers from the ledge which ran on the inside of the crenellated wall and indeed in millennia gone past had done so against the marauders of the north.
One small gate in the north, east and west walls, and one main fortified gate in the south wall were the only points of entry into the complex. The prince’s mind had been over this countless times in the past several days, but at no point had he found a weakness or unguarded gate.
His mind wandered. Today was the seventh day since his mother had been murdered. Today was the last day Zaki would have to wait before coming for the crown himself. Today was the day when he, Soren, should be performing the burial and ascension rights for her. Instead, it would be the hands of her murderer tending to her body. He shuddered at the thought. Zaki would pay for taking that right of final farewell away from him, but he knew that none of the actions of the past week could be undone or forgotten.
Soren recalled how the crowds had gathered for his father’s funeral. He could barely remember that day; a few fleeting childhood memories with little understanding of what was happening. A wild moment of wondering how he could ever bring himself to cope with all that had happened consumed him, before he composed himself once more.
Soren roused himself to begin the daily struggle and prayed he could find a way into the monastery. Without food, he was not sure how long he could continue. He saddled up his horse and once more began to lead him through the trees until he stood within sight of the complex.
It was early morning and the sentries on the northern corner were still huddled in their sleeping tents, or sat outside eating. He checked his sword sat loose in its sheath – easy to draw should he need it. His bow, too difficult and slow to use in the dense vegetation, lay unstrung in his saddlebags.
Circling north, he spotted the lone soldier guarding the gate, who had drawn the short straw and would be lucky to break fast today. There lay no way past the man’s line of sight and out of desperation, Soren decided to take a more direct approach.
He tethered his horse just out of sight. Sauntering out of the trees, he walked confidently forward and saluted the man, who saluted back, confused. Soren sprung into action. He leapt forward and gave the sentry a blinding crack on the side of his helmed head with his sheathed sword.
The man dropped without a sound. Soren scanned around to make sure no one else had heard, and then dragged the man’s prone form the ten feet or so to the tree line. Using the man’s own neck chief, he ripped it down the middle of its length to form two long thin strips; one, he bound the man’s hands with, the other, his mouth and pushed the man out of sight beneath some bushes.
Foliage rustled behind him. Soren spun round, hand on sword, to see a second man standing still, evaluating the situation as he emerged from the trees a short distance away. Soren cursed. A second sentry; he should have realised. He wheeled around to face the man and charged towards him, drawing his sword. He did not cry out; to draw further attention would be fatal, but Soren knew that he had to eliminate the man.
Dizzy and tired, his first blow skittered off his foe’s sword with a clash that made his ears wince. He heard shouts, coming from many directions and parried a shot, arm painfully jarred by his far stronger opponent’s powerful slashes.
As his foe drew back to land another strike the man grunted strangely. Time slowed for Soren as he watched an arrow pierce the man's side, another his arm and a final one his neck, each sprouting from him in quick succession as they slipped between his leather armour plates and chain mail.
Caught off balance the man stumbled and fell, snapping the arrow shafts clean off as he crashed upon them. Soren froze, mid-parry. His despair turned to confusion as the man gurgled and convulsed, whilst his lifeblood slipped away. Hands grabbed Soren from behind and he shouted. He twisted as he lost his balance. These were no soldiers he saw; they were monk
s.
The north gate lay open. Brown-robed men poured out, various weapons in hand, surrounded him and drew him into the protective sanctuary of the monastery. Under the wall he went, through the gate, passed from one monk to the next, half carried, half dragged.
“My horse!” he managed to cry before he lost sight of the forest altogether and was rushed towards the centre of the grounds. Behind him, the gate boomed shut amidst much shouting. He barely had time to take in his surroundings and could not see much through the group of men about him; a flash of smooth turf, flower gardens bulging out of turf beds, vegetable patches and various outbuildings passed by as they closed in on the large building ahead.
Monks were busy everywhere, all clad in swords and metal helmets with padded armour plates strung from their shoulders and tied around the waist. They stopped to stare as Soren was rushed through the grounds.
Soren attempted to explain who he was and the reason for his presence. The monk beside him did not break his silence or make eye contact and Soren began to doubt himself. The man showed no surprise at his news; Soren had a sudden icy flash of panic and wondered whether he had arrived at his sanctuary or delivered himself into Zaki’s hands.
When he faltered, those behind him forced him to increase his pace again. Just when Soren’s worry was at its peak, they reached the stone building, which towered three stories above them and the monk turned and bowed to the prince. Before Soren could respond, they dispersed as quickly as a flock of birds taking flight back to their duty on the walls. Soren twisted around to watch them leave, bewildered.
As he turned back to the steps, he started. A man stood before him. Soren knew he had not been there seconds before and he had not heard his arrival. He was thickset, of huge build and seemed coiled with tension. Soren wondered if this was the abbot, but the man did not at all match the peaceful aged figure Soren had imagined in his mind’s eye.
The man regarded him through imperturbable eyes, muscled arms folded across his torso. Soren looked back, uncertain.
