by N. C. Reed
Finn looked at Parno for a long moment, weighing his reply. Parno returned his gaze steadily, wondering at the man’s reluctance to speak. Until now, Finn had shown no hint of such reluctance. Interesting.
“Milord,” Finn finally replied. “I will share with you something if you promise to keep it to yourself. May I be so bold as to ask your word on that?” Parno frowned at that. What could be so secretive as all that? Seeing the frown and misreading it, Finn hastened to explain.
“It isn’t about. . .it’s not a trust issue, milord, so much as my concern for safety. Some of the things we. . .I, have uncovered. . .well, would you like to see just anyone able to make the gunpowder? The ‘blasting powder’ as you call it?” Parno considered that and shook his head.
“No, I would not,” he agreed. “But in any case, yes, you have my word. But if you’d prefer not to speak of it, then don’t, Roda. I was asking from simple curiosity.”
“No, I certainly don’t mind speaking to you, milord,” Finn assured him. “It’s just not something I would want to be made common knowledge.” He paused, lips pursed, as he considered how to explain.
“There exists within Soulan a society, a fraternal order, if you will. That society is dedicated to seeking out ancient knowledge, reconstructing the marvels of the time before the Dying and rebuilding those that would be of benefit to our fellow man. It is a painstaking process, milord, to say the least. Information found in a book in Nasil, for instance, might be useless without information from another book that might be in Jax, or Tallsee, for example. The ancient texts are not always easy to find. Far too often they are in such poor shape that it takes months, even years, to carefully reconstruct what is in them.”
“But the work is worth it, milord. There exists in those ancient texts many wonderful, useful things. Information and knowledge that properly employed can make many facets of life easier. Safer.”
“Knowledge of medicines and health for instance. Certain diseases, medical afflictions, and whatnot. Treatments that the ancient doctors knew of. Ways to make the same medicines they used themselves.”
“And engineering,” Finn continued, clearing warming to the subject so dear to his heart. “Bridge building, for instance. Building construction. Information about the earth itself. Earthquakes, weather patterns, ways of protecting ourselves against these disasters.”
“And warfare,” Parno said grimly. Finn nodded in agreement.
“Aye, milord,” he said quietly. “The ancients were well versed at warfare. My ‘gunpowder’ is but a trivial thing when stacked against the weapons of the time before the Dying.”
Parno considered that for a moment.
“I admit that I know little of the past,” Parno admitted, almost shame faced. “I never took much time to study it. But, if this knowledge still exists, how is it that we don’t use it today? How did it become lost? If lost is the term,” he added with a frown. “What happened?”
“There are a number of reasons, milord,” Finn shrugged. “First and foremost it seems, is that many of the people who knew how to make use of knowledge in certain areas were lost in the Dying. Some certainly survived, of course,” he acknowledged, “but many did not. Too many, perhaps, for the necessary schools to continue.”
“Another problem was the separation of peoples caused by the Dying. Histories from the time immediately after the Dying indicate that fierce battles were fought among the survivors over scraps of technology and dwindling resources. Leaders of many great cities, including Nasil, knew that once those scraps were gone or depleted, replacement of them would be difficult or completely impossible. The machines needed to make parts for much of their equipment had no one to operate them. Materials needed for some parts were made in faraway places, and there was no longer a way to get them.”
“True, for a while there continued to be some sharing among the various places in the world of what the Ancients called ‘hi-tech’, but gradually their ways were lost to them as the few remaining skilled people in many areas died. In the time they had they tried to teach their skills to others but each generation naturally knew less and had less to work with than the generation before.”
“So the lack of skilled workers resulted in the loss of the marvels of the Ancients,” Parno said.
“To a degree,” Finn nodded. “But in some places, superstition played a role it seems. The Dying was caused by a system a warfare known as Biological War. That means that weapons were derived that attacked our bodily systems, making us ill,” Finn added at Parno’s frown. “To them, the great technology of the their time had led to the near ruin of the entire world. As such, knowledge of those things became taboo among some races, in many parts of the world.”
“Libraries were destroyed, machines disassembled. Skilled technicians killed. Laws passed that forbade the study of the ‘old ways’. As a result, much was lost needlessly. We try to reconstruct what we can, when we can find it. We here in Soulan are fortunate. The Dynasty of Tyree mandated that all libraries were to be protected and they were. Your own father continues that even today, milord.”
“The Guild works to restore those histories and technical ‘manuals’ in order to rebuild at least some of that glory.”
“Who funds all this, Roda?” he asked finally.
“Those of us who search, milord,” Finn shrugged. “We work at one job to support the other. It is often difficult,” he admitted.
“How many of you are there, Roda?” the young prince inquired. “And are you. . .I assume that you are spread all over the kingdom?”
“Yes, we are,” Finn nodded. “As to how many, I have no idea, to be honest. As we find students of rare skill and intelligence we. . .encourage, I suppose, or foster, their interest in the pursuit. I know many of them but no one, I daresay, can know them all.”
Parno pondered all this in silence. Finn noted the look on his face.
“What are you thinking, milord?” he asked, not without some concern. He had taken a large chance in sharing what he had with Parno.
“I’m thinking that I can help you and your fellows,” Parno said simply. “I’m thinking that with proper funding there is much you could accomplish. Would such a sponsorship interest any of your fellows, Roda?” he asked plainly. “And would some of them be willing to apply what they know and what they learn in helping me?”
“I’m sure several of them would jump at the chance, milord,” Finn answered thoughtfully. “In the past, some of our predecessors have sought Royal backing for certain projects. Not always with success, mind you,” he added.
“As to helping you, I cannot say,” he admitted. “None would deny you specific information as you are a Prince of the Realm, but,” he shrugged again, “I cannot say that any would agree to work for you as I have. What areas would interest you the most? I may know of some who would be willing to help.”
“I’m interested in all of it,” Parno chuckled. “Anything that would help our people is always of interest to me, Roda. As to assisting me directly, I would be most interested in the medicinal aspect and the engineering.”
“I see,” Roda mused. “I know a few that might be open to working for you in those aspects.”
“I would also be interested in the study of the weather,” Parno mused. “If someone could predict weather patterns, even a few days in advance, then that would be most helpful. Especially in combat.”
“Yes, I can see that,” Roda nodded. “If I may have a few men to serve as couriers, then I can dispatch messages to a few of my colleagues who have great skill and knowledge in those areas.”
“I would be willing to build a hospital on our post if one or more of the physicians would be willing to relocate,” Parno added, hoping to sweeten the pot. “I’ll provide anything they need, for any of them, as far as that goes.”
“That would certainly appeal to many of them,” Roda agreed. “I will draft the messages starting tonight. I cannot promise anything, mind you,” he warned. “All I can do is p
resent your proposal with my endorsement.”
“That is all I can ask,” Parno smiled. “And I thank you.”
“It’s the least I can do, considering that you kept me from being the guest of honor at a local stake burning,” Roda replied.
CHAPTER FOUR
“I give you a simple project and what happens? You stir up trouble all over the southern provinces,” Tammon McLeod scowled at his youngest son, who stood before him unapologetic.
Parno and his men had returned to Nasil only the day before. Almost at once a courier had appeared, informing the youngest Prince of Soulan that the Kind demanded an audience first thing on the morrow.
The trip had been exhausting on both men and animals. They had, in fact, pushed into the night in order to reach Nasil rather than make camp again in the open. After three months in the saddle nearly every day, even the hardiest of the troopers were showing signs of fatigue.
Their travels had not been in vain, however. Over the course of their prison visitations, Parno, Darvo and Karls had found eight hundred and seventy-nine men they considered as ‘possible’ for the new regiment. True, some would undoubtedly have to be sent back. But considering the long odds they had faced at the outset, Parno was rather happy with the way things stood.
Or he had been, until now.
“I did not stir up trouble, My King,” Parno said evenly, on his best behavior. “I have, in fact, stopped a crime from being committed. Committed in your name, in fact. The priest in question had forged official looking documents that granted him ‘royal authority’ to burn people at the stake.”
“What?” Tammon’s attitude changed abruptly.
“And had co-opted the local constable into helping him as well,” Parno added with a nod, hoping to capitalize on the shift in Tammon’s attention.
“In my name?” the King almost yelled.
“Yes, Milord,” Parno answered. “I stopped the act before it could be finished and took both men into custody. Took them to the provincial capital where I handed them immediately over to the authorities. Our only involvement after that was to testify as to what we observed upon our arrival.”
“I also,” Parno continued, “took the liberty to speak for you in refuting the priest’s claim of any such Royal authority. I pointed out your unswerving dedication to equal justice for all under the law and the fact that you would never authorize something like a man being burned alive.
“So all this rumbling about your interference in affairs of justice?” Tammon inquired, his voice, for once, minus it’s normal sneer. Normal when dealing with Parno, at any rate.
“Just that, Milord,” Parno nodded again. “Rumbling. I took no hand in the trial other than my testimony as to what I had witnessed. Something any good citizen should do and certainly something any member of the Royal Family is required to do.”
“Just so,” Memmnon nodded in agreement. Memmnon, in addition to his work as defacto foreign secretary, was also responsible for the King’s Justice including appointments to the King’s Bench. The appointment of the King’s constables, a more powerful organization than the provincial constables, also fell to him. As such, all officers of the King’s Justice, regardless of rank or position, were under his authority. Which meant under royal authority.
“It is the responsibility of all those of noble rank to ensure fair treatment and adherence to the law,” Memmnon added firmly. “I deem you to have acted properly.”
Parno nodded his thanks to his oldest sibling. While it irked him to need Memmnon’s approval on his actions, the support from his brother was welcome in any setting.
“Very well,” Tammon said abruptly. “Then you have indeed, for once, acted like a member of this family and fulfilled your duty. I trust you will return to your old self shortly, however, providing embarrassment and aggravation to the Crown.”
Parno grimaced openly at that. For once, he had believed, he had won his father’s approval. Leave it to Tammon McLeod, however, to crush those hopes while still new born.
“I’ll do my best, Father,” he replied, voice tinged with bitterness.
“How is your project coming, Parno?” Memmnon asked suddenly. He, too, was disappointed in Tammon’s attitude.
“We have a good group,” Parno replied. “I’ve no doubt that some will prove unsuitable, but I am fairly confident in the lot as a whole, as are Colonel Nidiad and Captain Willard,” he added.
“Their training?” Memmnon pressed.
“Will begin soon,” Parno nodded. “Probably within a fortnight, but no longer than a month. The prisoners are already under escort to Cove. I had planned to stay here only long enough to make my report to you.”
“What is their reaction to being allowed into this trial?” Tammon asked, genuinely curious.
“They seem genuinely happy for the opportunity to prove themselves and to have a chance at making a contribution to society. The idea that they can earn even a limited freedom, especially with their families nearby, has convinced more than one to try his hand at soldiering.”
“See to it they are not allowed too much freedom,” Tammon growled. “They are still criminals.”
“The rules are quite strict, Sire,” Parno assured his father. “With Captain Willard’s company there are sufficient soldiers on hand to ensure security.”
“Well, so long as they don’t cause any trouble,” Tammon waved his hand in dismissal. “That will be all, Parno. I’m sure you will want to return to your men as soon as possible.”
Parno knew a dismissal when he heard it. He bowed stiffly, and deeper than usual, then turned to go.
“I will walk out with you, brother,” Memmnon said suddenly, surprising both Parno and Tammon.
“We meet with the Norland Ambassador in minutes, Memmnon,” the King reminded his eldest son.
“I will be there,” Memmnon assured his father.
*****
Once outside, Memmnon looked at his youngest brother apologetically.
“I’m sorry, Parno,” he said sincerely. “There was no call for those final remarks.”
“It is a small thing anymore, brother,” Parno lied easily. “I have long since learned to ignore him.” Just like I do the rest of you, he had no need to add. Memmnon’s face flushed just the same.
“Your actions were just and proper and I, for one, thank you for them,” Memmnon said. His voice was not grudging, nor condescending. It rang with honesty, and sincerity.
“You need to take a closer look at what’s going on in that region, Memmnon,” Parno advised. “There is an ugly feel to the whole area. The Constable’s office was a joke. I have to agree with Darvo. It would have been bad enough had it been in some backwards township, far removed from society as a whole. But the Provincial Capital?”
“I was only there a short time, of course,” Parno continued. “But in that time I have to admit that things felt, well, off somehow. I can’t tell you anything specific, just a general feeling of unease among the entire area. Especially around Bingham.”
“I have already dispatched one of my best investigators, backed by a dozen King’s Constables. If there is anything out of sorts, it will be dealt with, I promise.”
“Good,” Parno nodded. “There is something else. Two something’s actually. Two cases I’d like you to look at, when time allows. I believe they were handled badly and I’d like your opinion of them. I know too little to trust my own judgment in these matters.” He handed Memmnon a small leather valise. Inside were the records of Cho Feng and Brenack Wysin. Memmnon’s eyebrows raised slightly.
“Interfering in the matters of Justice, Parno?” he asked lightly.
“There is no justice in these, if I am right,” Parno said darkly. “It grieves me to say it, but it seems so. I will let you be the judge, since it is your position. I ask only that you do that which is right. You will see what I mean.” Memmnon considered his brother carefully for a moment, then nodded.
“I will review this tonight, if possible
,” he said. “I make no promises. . . .”
“I ask you for no promises, Memmnon,” Parno said evenly. “I ask only that you look for yourself. If it makes you feel better, it was Karls Willard who brought them to my attention.” Memmnon’s eyebrows rose to new height at that.
“As to Karls,” Parno added, “I have a request to make, one that I cannot broach. Willard is, in fact if not law, Darvo’s second. He should be promoted to Major, if not Lieutenant Colonel, something I am not allowed to do. Any suggestion I make to Therron will have negative consequences for his career, as you well know. Please mention to him that Karls is deserving of promotion.”
“I will do that,” Memmnon agreed immediately. “Today, in fact. Now, I must go. The Norland ambassador will be here presently and I am required to be there.”
“The Norland Ambassador,” Parno repeated. “Doesn’t sound right, does it?”
