“The fortress gates were constructed during the Reishi War,” Isabel offered.
“Gates? You mean there’s more than one?” Alexander asked.
“There are five,” Isabel answered. “Each one guards an entrance to Glen Morillian. All five were built during the war to protect the valley within from attack by the Reishi. This is probably the most well-defended place in the entire Seven Isles. When we get to the palace, I’ll show you my father’s map. It’s a little model of the whole valley, complete with mountains, rivers, lakes, roads, and buildings. It’s really something. I used to sit and stare at it for hours when I was a girl. Come on, the stables are this way.”
Alexander followed while trying to take in the austere magnificence of the place. Everything was in order and good repair. There was no ornamentation whatsoever, but that only served to magnify the dimensions of the accomplishment. All along the walls were stairs and walkways and smaller tunnel openings. The place didn’t just encompass the cavern and the face of the fortress but stretched out into the mountain itself in a number of different directions.
They were met at the stable by a middle-aged man in a Ranger’s uniform.
Erik dismounted and saluted. “Master Gatekeeper, it’s good to see you.” Erik took his hand. It was clear that they were friends. “May I present Lord Alexander Valentine, the bearer of the Mark of Cedric.”
The gatekeeper looked sharply at Erik for confirmation, which he seemed to get from the Ranger’s eyes, before he turned to Alexander and bowed formally. “My Lord, we are at your service. You have only to command it and your wish will be done.”
Alexander nodded to the man even as a chill raced up his spine.
Erik waited a moment to see if Alexander had any requests before speaking. “My Second and my brothers are at the spring meadow on the old trail to Falls Cave. Between here and there are twenty enemy soldiers accompanied by a wizard.”
The gatekeeper nodded. “I will send an adequate force to rout the enemy and collect your brothers and your Second. May I ask how you got past them?”
“Lord Valentine devised a plan to make our way around the enemy unseen and unnoticed and steal their horses. In one stroke we avoided their ambush and left them on foot.”
The gatekeeper chuckled, “Well played, My Lord. Now if you’ll excuse me I have enemy to attend to. My administrator, Hodge, will see to your needs.”
“Thank you, Master Gatekeeper,” Alexander said. “One other thing. We have a friend, probably traveling by wagon, headed our way. Please inform your men that he should be given safe passage. His name is Owen.”
“It will be done, My Lord.” The gatekeeper nodded and left to attend to his duties.
They turned their horses over to the stable hands and followed Hodge to a nearby building that looked more like an inn than anything else. Alexander soon discovered it was temporary lodging for those traveling to and from Glen Morillian. They were each given a room while a small army of servants leapt into action. Hot water was brought to each of their chambers. The servants offered to clean their traveling clothes and provided comfortable robes for the evening if they wished. Once everyone had a chance to clean up and rest for a bit, they were informed that dinner was ready.
They gathered at the large table in the main room of the lodging house. Alexander was glad to see everyone had chosen to take advantage of the comfortable robes that were offered.
When he saw Isabel, his heart skipped a beat. She wore a forest-green robe that clung to her well-toned figure just enough to be alluring without being too revealing. She had loosely tied back her chestnut-brown hair with a golden ribbon that seemed to bring out the sparkle in her eyes. All traces of the tomboy were gone. She was all woman now. Alexander couldn’t help but smile.
The food was simple but hot and plentiful. They served a well-seasoned beef roast with potatoes, carrots, and onions along with a heaping tray of freshly baked biscuits. For dessert they served a fruit salad glazed in honey sauce. After days of travel rations, Alexander took the time to savor the meal.
With every course, Lucky stopped the serving girls and asked a whole series of questions about the preparation of the meal until they finally told him they didn’t know and went and got the chef. Lucky insisted that he sit down and they talked about food and cooking for an hour while everyone ate.
Conversation stayed light and frivolous. No one wanted to spoil the simple pleasure of a good meal with talk of the dangers ahead. There would be time for that all too soon. Jack regaled them with stories of scandal at the court of New Ruatha that he’d witnessed as a child. Alexander couldn’t quite tell where the facts ended and the embellishments began, but he marveled at Jack’s seemingly effortless ability to hold everyone in thrall. He clearly reveled in the telling of a good story and was masterful in his delivery. Alexander started to understand the young bard a little better. More importantly, he noticed how Abigail was looking at him. He’d never seen her look at a man like that before. It made him happy to see the unabashed joy that Jack brought her.
Before he wanted it to end, dinner was over and the servants were clearing away the dishes. On cue, both Alexander and Erik yawned, followed only a moment later by everyone else at the table. It had been a long couple of days, so they all retired early to get a good night’s sleep.
Chapter 21
Breakfast was served early the next morning. It was a hearty meal of scrambled eggs with chunks of ham and skillet potatoes along with biscuits and jam. The frivolity of the night before was replaced with a somber mood. They would reach the palace of Glen Morillian by evening. Alexander knew that the duties he’d inherited would weigh heavily on him in the days to come. He also knew that there was a very real chance he would not survive the coming war with Prince Phane and the world he’d grown up in would fall into darkness. When he forced himself to look the situation squarely in the eye, he couldn’t help but sense madness scratching at the edge of his consciousness.
After a quiet breakfast they walked to the stables. Alexander was surprised to find different horses saddled and ready for them. Their new mounts were healthier and better cared for. The stable master said he wanted to give the horses they’d ridden in on time to recuperate from the long journey. His saddle, weapons, and gear were strapped onto a white saddle horse with a brown splotch on his forehead. Alexander patted the side of his neck as he spoke softly to his new steed and the horse leaned into his affections. He was a magnificent animal, full of spirit and intelligence. Alexander fished around in his saddlebags and produced a carrot. His new mount eagerly took the treat and nuzzled Alexander for more.
They traveled down a long straight tunnel cut through the heart of the mountain. All along the ceiling grew greenish-yellow lichen that emitted an eerie light that illuminated the corridor well enough to ride by. Once his eyes adjusted to it he thought he might even be able to read under the strange glow. They rode at a steady pace for almost an hour before the light of day could be seen at the end of the arrow-straight shaft through the mountain. When they emerged it was midmorning and Alexander got his first glimpse of the Glen Morillian valley.
It was as idyllic a place as he could ever have imagined. The long tunnel through the mountain spilled out onto a high mountain ledge big enough to assemble a battalion. The space had been cut from the granite of the mountain itself. From this altitude, Alexander could see that the entire valley was ringed with an impassable mountain range that acted as a natural defense. The mountains rose sharply from the valley floor below, reaching high into the sky. He could see rolling grasslands, patches of evergreen forest, and crystal blue lakes with mountain streams running between them.
The roadway down from the imposing altitude wound through the foothills after a series of switchbacks cut into the face of the stone mountains. By noon they arrived at the valley floor. It wasn’t exactly warm but it was a great deal warmer than it had been at the altitude of the tunnel opening.
Alexander spent the afternoo
n riding through a dream. The entire valley was dotted with small family farms. The fields were well kept and the herds he saw were healthy and fat. The forests they meandered through boasted giant trees that looked like they were trying to challenge the mountain’s claim to the sky. People were friendly and greeted them or waved as they passed.
There was little conversation during the afternoon ride. Erik led the way at a good pace. Not a hard ride but fast enough that it made little sense to try to talk. Occasionally, Abigail would get Alexander’s attention and point out some new piece of scenery around a bend or over a hill. She was clearly just as awed by the perfect-looking little valley community as he was.
Then they came out of a little wood and saw the city itself. The outskirts of town consisted of simple cottages and houses all neatly lined up along well-ordered streets. Each house had a yard and a garden plot of its own; most were surrounded by well-kept, sturdy little fences meant more to mark a person’s property than to keep people out or animals in. The place looked well maintained, as though everyone took pride in their property. The cobblestone streets were well made and clean.
The squalor Alexander remembered from the streets of Southport was nowhere to be seen. There were no beggars and the people on the streets moved with a purpose as if they had someplace to be or something of value to do. People were friendly enough and a few took an interest in them as they rode through, but Alexander suspected their glances had more to do with Abigail and Isabel than with him.
He rode beside Erik as the Ranger guided them through the streets. He could hear Abigail and Isabel talking to one another while they moved toward the center of town and the palace. Alexander hoped they would become friends. His sister’s opinion was important to him and he took her counsel seriously. She was younger, but she often had a way of seeing things in a different light. He rode silently, content to be alone with his thoughts as he took in the industrious little city tucked away in the shelter of the secluded mountain valley.
The true splendor of it all lay in the center of town. There was no wall around the palace, but instead a simple stone walk a good seven feet across that formed an unbroken circle surrounding the entire garden grounds. On one side of the circular walkway, the city was built up with buildings of all sorts lined up against the outer edge. On the other side were carefully manicured gardens stretching to the walls of the single building in the center of the palace grounds: a magnificent white marble castle that looked like it belonged in the stories Alexander’s mother had told him when he was a child.
Each corner of the seven-sided fortress formed a circular tower that reached up above the thirty-foot walls into the sky. Four of the towers were capped with conical spires done in gold leaf that caught the sunlight. Each stood a different height and each was topped with a flagstaff flying a colorful pinion. The remaining three outer towers culminated in flattop platforms surrounded by crenellated battlements. From the central building rose another two towers, both with greater girth and height. The taller tower was topped with a broader conical spire also done in gold leaf and flying the flag of Glen Morillian; the second culminated in a sheltered watchtower with an open-air bell. Stone-railed walkways connected several of the taller outer towers with the central towers as well as the main building itself, which stood a good three stories above the outer walls.
The structure looked like a fortress that had never faced a siege. Its white walls were polished and unmarred by violence. Its grounds were sculpted and scrupulously well maintained. Alexander suspected that any attack against Glen Morillian had probably started and ended at the fortress gates high in the mountains.
When they crossed the circular walkway surrounding the palace grounds, Alexander noticed that the smooth, unbroken granite walk was inlaid with ancient-looking symbols in pure burnished silver. Along each edge ran an inlaid band of gold an inch wide. The sheer weight of the precious metals set into the circle surrounding the palace grounds would have been enough to buy a small kingdom. Alexander began to wonder if it served some other purpose than simple decoration. In most cities, the entire guard force would have to be continuously deployed just to keep people from prying out little chunks of gold and silver in the dark of night.
Only moments after they passed over the inlaid circle and entered the palace grounds, the castle bell tolled once, bright and clear. Alexander could hear the echo return from the surrounding mountains in the distance.
The gates to the palace stood open and looked like they hadn’t been closed in a very long time. Erik rode through like he lived there but even he was somewhat surprised by what greeted them within.
An entire regiment of Rangers filled either side of the courtyard. Each dressed in identical brown leather armor and woodland green cloaks. Each stood at attention with a long spear, butt end down, at his right side and a sword on his left hip. Down the middle of the courtyard lay a clear path leading to a reception party surrounding an older man and woman, each also dressed in the uniform of the Rangers. The only thing that differentiated the man at the center of it all was the red sash he wore across his chest. Otherwise, his uniform was the same functional leather armor and warm, fur-lined, forest-green cloak that the rest of the Rangers wore.
Alexander again felt that tingle run up his spine. He glanced over his shoulder at Abigail and saw she was worried as well. Erik halted the procession twenty feet short of the reception party and dismounted. Alexander and his companions followed his lead. Once they were on the ground, a number of stable hands seemed to materialize out of the formation and take the reins of their horses. Erik gave Alexander a look that said, “Follow me,” then turned and walked to the man in the red sash.
“Father, it is my honor to announce Lord Alexander Valentine, bearer of the Mark of Cedric.” His clearly spoken words reverberated into the silence that followed.
Alexander stood stock-still before the big man. He was taller than Alexander and easily forty pounds heavier without any trace of fat. His face was weathered and his sandy blond hair was starting to show a hint of grey. He appraised Alexander for a long moment before stepping forward.
In a low and rumbling but gentle voice that Alexander suspected could fill the entire courtyard, he said, “Lord Alexander, you are welcome in Glen Morillian. May I see the mark?” Alexander puzzled a moment at the title. People had been calling him Lord Valentine, as was the custom for addressing a minor noble. The title Lord Alexander meant something else altogether. The tingle of dread returned.
Alexander got the distinct impression that his host was a man who didn’t have time for superfluous nonsense and decided that the big man in the red sash reminded him of Anatoly. Without a word he pulled the collar of his hooded cloak down and revealed the mark burned into the side of his neck. Murmurs rippled through the assembled Rangers.
The man in the red sash stepped forward to look more closely at the intricate pattern burned into the side of Alexander’s neck. After a moment of close examination he took a few steps back and held Alexander with his steely blue eyes for just a moment before speaking in a booming voice that did indeed fill the entire courtyard.
“I am Hanlon Alaric, Warden of the Great Forest, Commander of the Rangers and the Keeper of the Royal Bloodline. I am at your service, Your Majesty.”
As if the words that tumbled out of the man’s mouth weren’t enough to freeze Alexander to the spot, what he did next threatened to overwhelm his sanity. Hanlon Alaric, a man with three important titles, went to his knee and bowed to Alexander. In unison, every Ranger in the courtyard followed his lead. A moment later Alexander was looking around almost wildly to find that everyone in the whole place was on bended knee offering their fealty to him. His heart caught in his throat when he saw that Erik, Isabel, and even Anatoly were bowing as well. Jack had even gone to his knee. The only people who remained standing were Lucky, who was looking around with a big stupid grin on his face and Abigail, who gave Alexander a look that meant she thought he was in big trouble.
The look on her face mirrored his feelings. He was just a glorified ranch hand. If these people knew who he really was they would probably toss him in a dungeon for his presumption alone. A moment later he realized with a growing sense of alarm that everyone was still on bended knee. He tried to speak but nothing came out.
He deliberately cleared his throat before speaking. “Rise,” was all he could get out.
The situation was teetering on the edge of madness. Warden Alaric stood, followed a moment later by all of the Rangers with a precision that only comes from long-practiced discipline. He glanced over at Anatoly for an explanation and got only a shrug that said, “I’ll tell you later.” He also saw that Isabel was looking at him a bit differently.
He extended his hand to Hanlon as he found his voice, “Your sons and your daughter saved my life. I am in your debt.”
Hanlon smiled with pride as he took Alexander’s hand. His grip was firm and honest.
Alexander let his vision slip out of focus and saw that Hanlon Alaric was a man of courage, strength, and fierce loyalty. Alexander decided that he liked him. In the back of his mind he noted that Hanlon Alaric was also Isabel’s father.
Hanlon turned to Erik and Isabel with a smile. “You’ve done well.” He held each of them in turn for a moment with a look of fatherly approval.
It reminded Alexander of the way a look from his father could make his heart swell with pride. Then Hanlon stepped past his children and regarded Anatoly for a moment with a stern look that broke into a boyish grin. He and the big man-at-arms clasped arms in greeting.
“It has been far too long, my old friend. It seems like only yesterday when you and Duncan and I were riding together in the border wars.”
Thinblade Page 18
