Shadows of the Realm (The Circle of Talia)

by Lister, Dionne

  He whispered up at his master. “I’m not your servant. How dare he!”

  “This is the first of many insults you’ll have to endure, so get used to it. Didn’t I mention the life of a realmist wasn’t an easy one?”

  Arie took a deep breath and wondered if he had made the right decision to be a realmist. He supposed it wasn’t too late to change his mind.

  “Chin up, boy. What we’re doing is vital to the whole world. Just because this lackey doesn’t understand that, doesn’t mean what we’re doing is any less significant.”

  Arie nodded, feeling a little better.

  They approached the king. As the steward walked past, Arie couldn’t help but speak. “Thank you for being such a good little servant. You can go now.”

  The man opened his mouth and eyes in giant, comical O’s, skin heating to red. He raised his hand in retaliation. Agmunsten stood in between the two. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I could turn you into a pile of horse dung if I so chose.”

  Agmunsten conjured up a manure odour through the Second Realm from a farm just outside the Academy. He smirked as the anger in the steward’s eyes turned to fear.

  The realmist turned and looked down at Arie. “That was uncalled for. I’m very disappointed.”

  Arie’s cheeks blossomed into a nice shade of pink.

  The king watched the exchange without smiling and waited until his servant left. “You are an old bugger. Can’t say he didn’t have that coming, pretentious old git. I’ll have to have a word with him about insulting my guests.” The king rose from his high-backed, gilt-armed chair and stepped down the two stairs to warmly embrace Agmunsten. Arie’s chest swelled with pride at the honour they were being given. He was amazed at the king’s familiarity with his mentor, as he hadn’t quite believed Agmunsten’s claim that he knew King Edmund.

  “And who is this strapping young fellow?”

  “It gives me a reasonable amount of pleasure to introduce you to my partner in this journey, Arie.”

  Arie bowed. “It is an honour to meet you, Your Highness.”

  “Likewise. Any partner of Agmunsten is welcome in my castle. I think we’ll retire somewhere more private. I fear the news you have for me is not of the good variety.” The king dismissed those in the room and left instructions that he was not to be disturbed for the afternoon. He took his guests to the reception area in his private chambers.

  Arie was again wide-eyed at the riches surrounding him. He wandered the room, looking intently at plinths which held carved crystal vases with freshly cut flowers, artworks in gilded frames, smooth marble statuettes and small, hand-blown glass figurines of sailing ships, naked women and horses. Arie carefully keep his distance lest he break something. King Edmund and Agmunsten each took a glass of mulled wine and sat in a plush leather sofa, surrounded by blue, white, and gold cushions, all bearing the royal insignia of the Laraulen family—a snow-covered oak against a blue sky.

  “Edmund, I have very sensitive news, which I don’t wish to impart in front of anybody.” He indicated Arie.

  The king rose and opened the door, “Fetch Boy immediately.” The king left the door open for the moment and approached Arie. “I’ve sent for someone to show you around the castle. Does that sound like fun?”

  Arie swapped his serious face for a huge grin. “Definitely, Your Highness. This place is huge. It could take all day to explore.”

  “Probably longer. Anyway, the person I’ve sent for seems to know this place better than me, so you should be busy all afternoon.”

  Arie grinned.

  It wasn’t long before Boy arrived. The lads were introduced. Boy, of course, would tell Leon when he got back. This was interesting news; two strangers meeting privately with the king.

  “Hi, I’m Arie.” He held out his hand. Boy took it and shook.

  “Hi. I’m Boy. Lets go. There’s heaps to show you.”

  “Great.” The boys walked as fast as they could without running and didn’t realise their rudeness at leaving the king’s presence without so much as a bow. The king smiled at their youthful disregard for authority. His smile disappeared, however, when he sat and listened to what Agmunsten had to say.

  Agmunsten skirted around the subject but gave Edmund enough information to convey a sense of urgency about what actions they had to take. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you everything; it might compromise our situation. I need you to come with me to Vellonia. We have to consult with as many heads of state as we can.”

  “Vellonia. Hmm.” Edmund lifted a forefinger to his nose. “What about Brenland? How long will it take to get King Fernis to Vellonia?”

  “I sent a message to Elphus. He’s going to bring him. The only problem is that it would not be comfortable for either of them to travel in a conventional way.” Agmunsten was alluding to the fact that both men were grossly overweight. “When we get to Vellonia we’ll speak to Zim. I hope he’ll be persuaded to fly them in.” Edmund looked skeptical.

  Dragons were uppity creatures, full of a superior attitude. One of the most insulting things one could ask a dragon would be to ride on their back. Their response would be that they were not flying horses.

  If you were foolish enough to push the point, they would consider making a meal of you to show you how superior they really were. Until now, no one had ever been known to show such a ridiculous level of idiocy.

  “I suppose you want to leave tonight?”

  “Very perceptive, my king. You may find Hermas has quietly organised everything you’ll need. I don’t particularly want it known that you’re leaving the city with us.”

  Edmund nodded. “I’m going to say goodbye to my family. I suppose Hermas knows where I’m to meet you.”

  “I’ve always said you were a brilliant man. See you tonight. If you don’t mind, I’m going to help myself to your larder.”

  “Be my guest.”

  Agmunsten bowed before he left.

  Edmund sat down to consider the news more carefully. He had not been told the full story, which Agmunsten readily admitted. This only made him worry more. A knot formed in his belly. Whatever was going on, he hoped his brother was not involved. Leon had been less and less of a brother over the past few months. The king had suspicions about his only sibling he was not ready to voice, yet. If his suspicions were true, he feared he would have no choice but to have Leon executed. How he could order that was a question he did not want to contemplate. Maybe the gods would be kind and spare him the decision. Wanting to stop thinking about the possibilities, he went to find his beautiful wife. She could always cheer him up, and he needed to say goodbye.

  When Agmunsten finally tracked the boys down, he found them sitting in a tree in the queen’s garden, eating warm meat pies. They were laughing, faces covered in food and dirt. Arie climbed down when he was spotted.

  “Where in Zebla’s name have you been crawling? You’re one big cobweb.”

  Arie shrugged and spoke through a mouthful of food. “Boy took me through secret tunnels and stuff. It was so much fun.”

  “Sorry to break up the party, but it’s time to go.” Agmunsten looked into the tree. “Thanks for entertaining Arie.”

  Boy assumed an expression of indifference. “It was nuthin. I had fun. See ya.”

  He waved to his new friend who was departing his life as suddenly as he had come into it.

  Agmunsten took his dirty protégé to the castle’s bathing room. When he was clean, they mounted their horses and left Bayerlon. Arie looked back wistfully at the city and all the things he didn’t get to see or taste. Agmunsten could read his mind, “Don’t worry, lad, we’ll be back soon enough.”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know. Just soon.”

  “That’s not a very good answer you know.”

  “I know. Look, I guarantee you will see things on this trip that you couldn’t have imagined. I haven’t told you where we’re going, have I?”

  “No.” Arie sat taller in his seat, suddenly
interested.

  “Vellonia, city of the dragons.”

  The only reply Agmunsten got was a rushed intake of breath and a “Wow.” He said no more and let the boy mull over the information for a while.

  The sun was low in the sky. Agmunsten led them to a large copse of trees about an hour’s ride from Bayerlon. With the light almost gone, no one would be able to see them amongst the thick foliage. King Edmund would meet them after he dined with his family. They were not telling anyone of the king’s departure. Edmund would feign sickness at the table. They hoped that by the time anyone realised he was gone, two or three days would have passed; enough for the trail to have gone cold. The only ones who were to know the truth were Gabrielle and Hermas. They didn’t want people asking questions—any king paying a visit to Vellonia was not there for a picnic.

  Agmunsten and Arie sat within the protection of the trees—Agmunsten trying not to think of how much damage the Gormon might have done by now. They knew so little about their enemy. The last time they had come to earth was long before he was alive, and few records of that time existed. The population had been too busy crawling out of the ashes of devastation to bother writing things down. Agmunsten wondered how many there were. Could there already be scores, even hundreds? His face drained of colour and he felt nauseous.

  Arie, on the other hand, was lost in a pleasurable little world, remembering his day with a new friend. Boy had been shy at first and a little pretentious, because he knew the magnificent castle inside and out. Soon enough the façade had dropped, and the boys were running through secret passageways and exploring rooms filled with ancient treasures. There was lots of laughing and play; something neither boy had had much time to do in their short lives. Arie had spent the past two years studying and serving Agmunsten, whilst Boy had spent his whole life snatching playtime in between being abused by every adult who was supposed to protect him. Both boys had enjoyed each other’s company and felt that each had made a new friend.

  A cracking twig and rustling leaves broke the stillness. Agmunsten jumped to his feet, hands raised, just in case. He lowered his hands when he saw the king leading his horse. This time there was no bowing, just an embrace between the men. The king tussled Arie’s hair and without a word they made their way to the opposite side of the clearing.

  As they rode, Arie noticed the king was not wearing any special clothes—at least the heavy coat was not special. He didn’t know what was underneath. The king had donned a brimless, woollen hat, which had long flaps to cover his ears. He looked like a common worker; even his horse was nothing special—a plain, brown mare. She was smaller than what you would expect a man of his size to ride, and half her left ear was missing, the only reminder of a previous fight.

  The story they would use, if necessary, was that Agmunsten, his son and grandson, had previously run a small inn. One day the son of a wealthy merchant had found himself in a fight within the inn, resulting in his untimely death. The merchant, in his grief and anger, had burned down the establishment and threatened the lives of the now innless innkeepers.

  Dawn came and went. The horses walked on. At lunch they veered off the road to rest and eat. Arie had been nodding off in his saddle and was very happy to slide off and lie in the grass. Edmund tended the horses whilst Agmunsten prepared a cold lunch of cheese, already cooked bacon, and bread, all from Bayerlon’s well-stocked kitchens.

  “Why didn’t we stop in the next town, master?” Arie always had to know everything.

  “This close to Bayerlon someone might recognise our travelling companion. From now on call me grandfather, and call him,” he nodded toward Edmund, who was returning from the horses, “father.”

  “OK Grandfather.” Arie smiled. He liked calling Agmunsten ‘grandfather’; that’s what their relationship felt like. He was quite surprised to be calling the King of Veresia ‘father’. Imagine what Boy would say if he knew, and his friends at the Academy.

  “Don’t tell anyone about this, Arie. The less people know, the better.” The boy’s face fell. He wondered how Agmunsten knew what he was thinking. He was getting to do something very exciting and wasn’t allowed to tell anyone.

  He pushed out his bottom lip. “OK, Grandfather”. Arie lay on the grass and pretended to go to sleep.

  Agmunsten and Edmund sat close together and spoke quietly , out of Arie’s hearing. They agreed to sleep for a short while, for they had a long ride ahead and needed their wits. Agmunsten travelled the ether and found Elphus. “We’re on our way. What’s your situation?”

  “We left yesterday, so we’re still a long way behind you.”

  “You’re going to ride?”

  “We’re in a very slow, bumpy carriage. At this rate we may not get to Vellonia until the whole thing is over. It would be good to hitch a ride, if you know what I mean. Anyway, have you heard anything about the situation in Blaggard’s Bay?”

  “Nothing has filtered through yet, which could be a good or bad thing, depending on how much has already happened. If you’re asking me how much time we have before the situation becomes irretrievable, I fear I have no answer. We may have already lost.”

  “Chin up. We have to stay positive. I can’t believe we don’t have a chance. Maybe you could consult with some god or other.”

  “Oh yes, I’ll just snap my fingers. I’m sure one of them will answer.”

  “It’s worth a try.”

  “In all my years on this planet they have only ever contacted me once. Why would they interfere now?”

  “I don’t know. Anyway I’m going to stay positive, even if you’re not. If you hear anything let me know. Bye.”

  Elphus cut off the connection in disappointment at his colleague’s negativity. Agmunsten felt ashamed. He was not usually like this, however couldn’t shake the feeling that it was already too late. He kept his eyes shut and called out to the gods. He felt justified in his attitude when he received no reply.

  They rose in the late afternoon, mounted and continued. Edmund and Arie sensed Agmunsten’s mood and left him alone, speaking to each other instead. Edmund told Arie about his family, and Arie spoke about both of his families; the real family and the Academy family.

  “I always wondered what our money funded. I’ve only visited the Academy twice. I’m glad to know you’re actually learning something. I was never sure if my friend over here was just taking my money and living the good life.” A smiling Edmund looked over at the realmist but saw no reaction to his friendly jibe. Agmunsten was sliding into a black mood and it was anyone’s guess when he would return. It was going to be a long afternoon.

  15

  Blayke the rat and Fang stood eye to eye. You’re not a very good looking rat; you make a better human. Fang’s whiskers twitched in mirth.

  Gee, thanks. I think I liked you better when I couldn’t understand you. What do we do now? They both looked around at their new world. It was a fine day—birds chirped, butterflies flew past. Blayke shrank back as the butterfly flew past—it was as big as he was.

  Fang smiled as he watched Blayke’s reactions. Don’t be a coward. It’s only a butterfly.

  Blayke couldn’t help but squeak in laughter at his predicament. Placing forepaws on the ground, he took a two steps forward to test his new way of walking. His legs seemed to know what to do. He could feel his tail dragging on the ground behind him; a strange sensation. He stopped and stood on hind legs, sniffing the air for signs of other animals. He was already feeling more comfortable in his rodent skin and found that natural instincts were taking over. Blayke turned to Fang. Do you like being a rat?

  I don’t know how to be anything else. I guess I’m happy with it. Do you like being a human?

  Yes, but I might enjoy being a rat. This is meant to be a test, but I have no idea what’s supposed to happen.

  Maybe we should have a look around. Follow me. Fang moved towards a small rise, which would give them a better vantage point, although they would be more exposed.

  It was a
long walk to the top of the small grassy hill. If he had been in human form it would have been a matter of a few steps, but in rodent form it was lots and lots of very small steps. By the time they reached the top, Blayke was puffing. It’s hard work being this small. How do you cope?

  I don’t know any other way. Usually I don’t need to go very far. We tend to have nests near a ready source of food. I’ve scared my share of cooks. Blayke, I wonder if you could explain something to me. How can a creature as small as me frighten you large humans? You’d think we were made of a lethal poison the way some of your females scream and carry on. Blayke was not sure, but he sensed the rat was offended at people’s reactions to him. He supposed if women reacted to him the same way, he would be offended too.

  Can’t help you there, Fang. I was never scared of rats or mice, and who can say why other people are.

  From the top of the rise they could see a fair distance, however Blayke’s new eyes were not long sighted. Only a few metres ahead the landscape became a blur to him. He knew there were hills beyond the one they were standing on; he had seen them before his transformation. Can you see very far?

  Fang shook his head. That’s what our noses are for. Sniff the air, see what’s there. Fang followed his own instructions and shut his eyes, turning his nose this way and that.

  Blayke was about to shut his eyes when the day darkened. He looked up at the sky, but it was obscured by a large, dark shadow. Um, Fang. I think you’d better open your eyes. What’s that? Blayke pointed up at the sky with his nose.

  Fang gazed upward. Run!

  Fang shot off down the hill. Blayke wasted no time in following, running as fast as his tiny legs would move. Blayke wanted to ask what was happening, but had no breath to form the words. Fang pushed into his mind. It’s a hawk who wants lunch.

  Blayke almost stopped at the loud words that suddenly invaded his mind. He could feel the aura of where Fang had been and sent his own thought to follow the path back to Fang’s mind. I refuse to be anyone’s lunch. Run faster.