The Halfblood King: Book 1 of the Chronicles of Aertu

by Julian Benoit

  “Huh…” was all Aleron said in response, as they rode to the city gates.

  Chapter 10

  Carpathday, Day 16, Growing Moon, 8760 Sudean Calendar

  By late morning, they passed through the city gates, leaving the dusty road behind them. Aleron had never seen anything like the walls of Arundell. Five arm-spans thick and ten high, with watchtowers every fifty paces and zigzagged with redoubts, providing a clear view of every inch of the perimeter, the city walls appeared impregnable. Dual portcullis formed the gate, to facilitate heavy traffic in both directions and travelers had to cross a drawbridge, spanning a deep moat, to enter or leave the city. Though the gate and drawbridge were easily five arm-spans wide, travelers still bottlenecked in both directions and it took quite some time to gain access to the city. The two couriers were far ahead, as soldiers positioned at the drawbridge halted traffic to allow them to pass unhindered. After passing through the walls, the street opened up into a vast open marketplace. Wooden stands and carts dotted the cobblestone expanse, while shops of a more permanent nature, lined the outer edges. Beyond the market could be seen orderly blocks of low stone houses, divided by narrow streets and occasionally punctuated by tall mansions of polished granite and marble or the imposing spires of the occasional temple. Far in the distance, he could see the towering minarets of the Royal Palace. “Where will we be going first, Grandfather?” he asked, trying to take in all the sights.

  “First thing my boy is to get to the inn, stow our gear and care for the horses. Then some food and a hot bath are in order,” Hadaras answered.

  “Will we get to look around the city?” Aleron inquired, looking a bit crestfallen.

  “Don’t worry Aleron, after a short rest, we’ll be able to wander the markets. The one by the docks is even bigger than this one, with much more interesting merchandise, but we won’t get to that one until at least tomorrow.”

  “All right,” the boy conceded.

  Hadaras knew exactly where he was going and they rode straight through the crowded marketplace, in an easterly direction. Exiting the market square, they travelled two city blocks before coming upon an inn, on the opposite corner of the street intersection. The sign above the door read, ‘The Golden Dragon’, over a realistic portrayal of just such a beast. A smaller sign on the corner of the building read ‘Stables in Rear’, with an arrow pointing left. They waited on a large, important looking carriage coming from the other direction before crossing to the entrance. Hadaras dismounted after passing the reins to Aleron, saying, “I’ll go in and see if there are any rooms available. You wait here.” Aleron waited until his grandfather came out again.

  “As luck would have it, they’ve a double room available for the next five nights. I’ve stayed here in the past and it’s a reputable establishment. Let’s get the horses taken care of so we can rest.”

  After three and a half weeks on the road, Aleron would have gladly settled for less than reputable, as long as there was a bed involved. “Great,” he replied as he dismounted, “I can’t wait to get settled into something with four walls and a bed.” They led the horses to the stable and got them settled in, taking turns bringing saddles and baggage to the rooms. When all their belongings were stowed, they unbuckled their swords and, keeping their daggers, went back to the stables to brush down, feed and water the horses. By the time they finished and returned to the room, they were several bells past midday and had not eaten since dawn. “Are we going to get some food soon Grandfather?” Aleron inquired. “I’m famished.”

  “Let’s head to the common room then,” his grandfather answered. “This establishment always has something cooking.” They proceeded to the common room and Hadaras requested of the proprietor for a couple of hot baths for the room. The innkeeper obliged, informing him that it would cost two silver extra for the service. They saw that braised venison haunch was on the menu, so he ordered two platters with sides of bread and boiled cabbage.

  As it turned out, the inn, like many residences in Arundell, had running water inside the building. The city was supplied by springs, high above in the hills and transported via underground aqueducts. Metal pipes tapped into the pressurized aqueducts to carry water into the buildings without the need for pumping. The inn had the added feature of routing the water through black copper tanks on the rooftop, preheating the bath and cooking water to save fuel. Often, in the summer months, the bathwater would be so hot as to require tempering with cold water before use. After their meal and a hot bath, to wash away the weeks of road grime, the pair donned fresh clothes and buckled on the small swords and daggers they had packed for wear about town. Hadaras locked the door behind them with the large padlock provided and they headed out to the market.

  ***

  The market square was still bustling with activity when Aleron and Hadaras arrived. They perused the stalls and shops together. Aleron had never seen such a selection of goods in one place. There was merchandise not only from across Sudea, but all over the Aertu as well. Aleron hefted a Sunjibi broadsword in one shop, wondering aloud who in the world could wield a five pound, single-handed sword. His grandfather informed him that westman arms and armor were often much heavier than the norm, due to the great strength of that people. The two separated as Hadaras stopped to speak to one of the vendors, while Aleron continued browsing. Aleron looked up and saw a young, auburn haired girl of around fourteen, dressed in a fine gown of sky blue and surrounded by four armed retainers. Their eyes met and Aleron thought her’s might be the greenest eyes he had ever seen. She smiled at him and one of the retainers, noticing the exchange, scowled at him in turn. Since he wasn’t watching where he was going, Aleron bumped into another young man, who was perusing the wares. “I’m sorry,” Aleron said to the other, who appeared only slightly older than he did.

  “And so you should be,” the other youth stated in a loud voice, shoving Aleron backwards. The other youth was about Aleron’s size, with black hair and a fringe of a beard.

  “I said I was sorry!” Aleron stated, as the other reached to shove him again. Aleron grabbed his aggressor’s right hand and twisted inward, until the palm faced the sky, bending the thumb back towards the ground. As his attacker fell to his knees, groaning in pain, Aleron noticed another youth, darting for the dagger on his right side. Aleron shifted slightly and mule-kicked the second attacker in the midsection. He thought he felt a rib crack beneath his heel and the second youth was curled on the ground, coughing. He twisted all the harder, as he repositioned himself to see both attackers. He said to the first, “I’m going to refrain from breaking your arm and you should tend to your friend. I think he may have a broken rib or two. If I notice either of you follow me, I will assume the worst and I will kill you. Are we understood?” The other nodded in affirmation. Aleron released him and stepped back, hand on his dagger hilt in an ice pick grip. The black haired youth scrambled to the aid of his companion and Aleron looked around for the first time since the altercation began. The market goers had given them a wide berth and the girl, who Aleron had quite forgotten about, was watching him wide-eyed, with her retainers keeping a wary eye on him as well. Hadaras was watching from the other side and with a slight grin, motioned him over.

  “You must try to stay out of trouble, my boy,” Hadaras admonished the youth, jokingly.

  “I didn’t do anything to him, other than bump into him,” Aleron defended. “I don’t know what his problem was.”

  “I believe the problem had more to do with the pretty girl you were both eying before you bumped into each other,” his grandfather offered. “I’m fairly certain that those two lads know her, or at least know who she is, which would explain the posturing.”

  “I never understood that, Grandfather.”

  “You never understood what?”

  “The fellows who think that pushing the others around will impress the girls,” he answered. “Most girls are not impressed by that, from what I’ve seen.”

  “Just enough of them are,
to keep it going and it’s been going on since men first came into being. You can bet your last copper on that to be true. Come on and let’s see what else they have here.”

  They spent the remainder of the afternoon and well into the evening, perusing the various offerings of the vendors. Aleron had some silver with him, but Hadaras reminded him several times, that they would be travelling for the better part of a year and they would not want a lot of extra weight. Therefore, the swords, knives and armor that caught his eye, did not make it off the vendors shelves into his possession. He bought a few cakes and something to drink. As well, he purchased a new pair of gauntlets that appeared to be made from the hide of some sort of large snake or lizard, the dark green scales glittering in the sunlight.

  With the day behind them, they returned to the inn for a hearty supper and retreated to the room, for a long awaited sleep.

  Chapter 11

  Zorekday, Day 18, Growing Moon, 8760 Sudean Calendar

  Mid-morning on their third day in Arundell brought Aleron and Hadaras to the palace gates. Zorekday, devoted to the God of the Sea and the last day of the week, was traditionally a rest day in the city, especially for the government, so Hadaras deemed it the best day to tour the palace grounds. The usual frantic activity would commence tomorrow, on Gurlachday and casual visiting was discouraged. As they entered into the expansive front courtyard, a minor official announced, “Gentlemen, if you are interested, a tour will start on the next bell.”

  “Thank you Sir, but that’s quite alright,” Hadaras replied. “I know my way around well enough.”

  “Very well Sir, enjoy your visit.”

  The courtyard and gardens were open to the public every day, but Zorekday was the only day the old throne room was open. They crossed the wide flagstone courtyard, easily large enough to review an entire regiment, on their way to the public gardens. The gardens were equally as expansive as the courtyard. Wide paths meandered through impeccably maintained beds of flowers and incredibly detailed topiary. Statuary abounded, depicting characters and scenes from Sudean history. At the center of the garden, Hadaras led them to a larger than life statue in marble, of a tall man in armor, moustached but beardless, his right hand resting high on the hilt of a greatsword. “Meet your namesake lad,” Hadaras announced, “Aleron, King of Sudea.” Hadaras was impressed that the facial features still seemed accurate, this likely being the tenth such statue erected to honor the great king. Marble only lasted so long, after all. They must have a proof hidden in a vault somewhere, he thought.

  “So that’s what he looked like,” Aleron stated, unconsciously stroking the wispy moustache on his lip and thinking no beard may not be the worst thing that could happen. The statue had a familiarity that he could not put his finger on. “He looks like somebody I know, but I can’t think of whom.”

  Hadaras knew that if he had a mirror, he might have made the connection more easily. The statue looked like an older version of the boy standing before him. “Come on, my boy; let’s get a look at the throne room before it gets too crowded.”

  Aleron turned to face Hadaras and then suddenly his eyes got wide. “That fountain, it’s the one from my dreams!” He pointed to the fountain the statue of Aleron was facing. He had not noticed it when they approached. The ornate fountain was situated at the very center of the garden.

  “Are you sure it’s the same one?” Hadaras asked as Aleron rushed to touch the construct.

  “Yes, Grandfather, it’s unmistakable. All the markings are the same as in my dreams. I’m sure of it,” he answered as he ran his fingers along the smooth marble rim. “This is the fountain of the white water.” Water poured from the jugs held by the statues four maidens, facing the cardinal directions, with their backs to a sacred oak. Numerous magical glyphs were carved into the pedestal on which the maidens stood, most of them involving blessings of peace and prosperity for the kingdom. Aleron felt a tingling in his fingertips as he touched the stone and, unable to help himself, he dipped his hand into the fountain and scooped up a mouthful of the water. It was refreshingly cold, but otherwise, he felt nothing.

  “Now don’t be doing that,” Hadaras admonished him. “People might find drinking from the fountains a bit uncouth.” Sure enough, a few passersby did look crossly at them.

  “How could I have dreamed about something I’ve never seen before?”

  “I don’t know Aleron, but I am sure that those are not mere dreams you have been having. I just don’t know what to make of them yet. Now come on, let’s go to the palace before the crowds arrive.”

  To enter the inner courtyard, leading to palace doors, they had to give up their weapons to the guards. In return, they received a colored and numbered ticket. Several sword belts and miscellaneous other personal weapons were already hanging on the numbered hooks beside the guardhouse. “Now don’t lose that ticket, or we will have to come back tomorrow and pay to get your weapons from impound,” Hadaras implored. “That is, if no one else takes a liking to them first and pays the fine, claiming them as their own. This is a good place to find inexpensive weapons if one lacks honesty.”

  “I won’t lose it Grandfather,” Aleron assured him. “Here, I’ll put it in my coin purse and then back in my belt pouch it goes.”

  Hadaras nodded, satisfied with the boy’s solution. “Let us proceed then, my boy.” He led the way to the expansive main doorway, four yards wide and tall. The gilded steel doors swung inward on massive hinges, to reveal a huge antechamber. They stepped into the marble chamber that could have held two hundred comfortably, though they shared the space with only a half dozen others. Hadaras watched as Aleron took in the sight of the pristine white room, with its high vaulted ceilings and ornate carvings. Golden sunlight filtered in through narrow windows set high on the walls. Another set of doors, matching the first and hinged to open into the antechamber as well, remained closed and barred from within. Beside the huge doorway were two smaller ones, one on either side and also constructed of thick steel and gilded. These were open, with pikemen, still as statues in full military regalia, standing guard. “Don’t let the fancy uniforms fool you lad,” Hadaras said when he noticed Aleron looking them over. “The palace guards are like the couriers. They glean them from the best of the best.”

  “I don’t doubt it, Grandfather,” Aleron replied. He noticed the long scar, running temple to chin, on the one and the crisscrossed scars on the forearms of two others. These men were all veterans and definitely not dandies. They proceeded through the door to the right as the guards stared unflinchingly ahead, as if Aleron and his grandfather did not exist. If the antechamber was impressive, then the throne room itself was spectacular. Fifty paces long and twenty-five wide, the vaulted ceilings reached at least fifty feet to where the arches intersected. The pillars supporting the arches were carved to look like tree trunks and the arches like limbs. The room gave the impression that one was in a forest of gleaming white marble. Leaf like tracery in silver and gold covered the ceilings. Countless banners and pennants, commemorating thousands of year’s worth of military campaigns, were festooned between the pillars lining the central aisle and tapestries depicting significant events in Sudean history lined the outer walls. Contrasting all this was the massive black granite throne at the far end, empty for over one thousand years. The clean simple lines of the polished granite seemed at odds with the ornate nature of the room. Aleron knew from his reading, that the throne was far older than the hall it sat in and nearly as old as the kingdom itself. King Aleron had the new throne room completed just a few years before the great war against the Adversary and moved the ancient throne of his kingdom, rather than have a new one built to match the space.

  As they moved closer to the seat, Aleron saw something glittering blue in the sunlight. Hadaras noticed it too and hoped no one else could see it seemed to be glowing with an inner light, too bright to be the fault of the sun alone. He secretly cast a shade about the throne, to conceal the glow that was getting ever brighter as Aleron ap
proached. No doubts now, he thought, the sword recognizes its master. The blue glow came from the sapphire studded pommel of Andhanimwhid, the sword known in the vernacular as the ‘Sign of the King’. It glowed with blue radiance in the presence of the rightful King and only that one could draw it from the stone of the throne’s back that encased the blade.

  There were others touring the place as well. The old throne room was no longer used for any official government business. That was done in the steward’s offices deep within the palace. Aleron panned the room and to his surprise, there was the auburn haired girl from the market, along with her bodyguards and speaking to a well-dressed and handsome older gentleman. She was pointing at Aleron and whispering into his ear when Aleron spotted her. She quickly dropped her hand and turned to avoid his eyes. He nudged his grandfather, saying, “Grandfather, it’s the girl from the market the other day.” As Hadaras turned to face them, the older gentleman’s eyes widened in recognition.

  “Hadaras, you old badger,” he shouted, “I thought I’d never see you in the capital again.”

  Hadaras laughed and replied, “Gealton, good to see you. I thought as much myself. Come on Aleron,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder, “let’s go meet the Steward of Sudea.” Aleron followed in shocked disbelief as they crossed the floor to the highest-ranking official in the Kingdom. Hadaras dropped to one knee and bowed his head when he came to one pace from the Steward and Aleron followed suit, to his immediate left.

  “Get up old friend,” Gealton cried, moving to grasp Hadaras’ shoulders, “and you too lad,” he directed Aleron. “How have you been, old friend,” he asked, embracing Hadaras as he got to his feet.

  “I’ve been well, old friend, living in the country for the last twenty years or so,” Hadaras answered, “And you?”