by Callie Kanno
As Idris practiced summoning a ball of energy and shooting it over the water, his mind kept returning to his conversation with Aherin. How strange it must be to spend one’s life protecting a family, yet never having time for a family of one’s own. He could understand why so few of the Royal Guards chose to marry. Idris would not wish to have a wife, knowing that he would rarely see her.
Perhaps that was why Hildar was pushing Lennon away. Perhaps she thought he would be better off falling in love with someone else.
Only humans can be so selfish and so sacrificing at the same time, observed Iona.
Idris frowned. What do you mean?
Has it ever occurred to you that to some people the love would be worth the separation? Iona’s voice was as sharp as a winter’s wind.
Idris froze in stunned silence.
Iona went on relentlessly. You act as though it is a decision you can make on your own, but in doing so you are denying another person the opportunity to love.
Idris turned his gaze to Lennon, who was helping another sailor reposition a large barrel. Lennon must realize what Hildar’s future would entail, Idris reasoned. He must know that she would be gone every time the princess left the Water Palace and that Hildar’s personal time when the princess was at home would be limited. Hildar would probably never have children, since that would take too much time away from her duties.
Was it possible that Lennon had weighed all of those things and decided that he would still rather love Hildar than lose her? Idris found himself smiling at the thought. He knew his own parents would have made a choice like that. They had always been devoted to each other.
The smile slowly faded from Idris’s lips. There were ten members of the Royal Guard, counting himself. How many of them had chosen to love, in spite of the necessary sacrifices? None of them. Even Roth’s choice to marry had not been for love, but out of a sense of duty. Idris doubted that any of the members of the Royal Guard had ever allowed themselves to start loving someone.
The lives of the royal family before our own, Idris thought to himself. The impact of the words settled on his mind in a way it never had before. It wasn’t just that he had promised to die for his king. He had promised to live his life in the manner that would best benefit the royal family—even if it meant his personal unhappiness.
Now, now, soothed Iona. Do not be so dramatic. You can still live a happy and purposeful life. It is not as if you have been sentenced to your doom.
I know, Idris thought defensively.
Even so, the future he saw for himself suddenly seemed rather grim. He had always taken it for granted that someday he would marry and have a family. He had imagined himself buying a small home in Marath, where he could return at the end of each day.
That scenario seemed rather naïve now. The royal family needed to be protected both day and night. Once he finished his training, he would have very little personal time. Idris thought about that for several moments, growing more and more solemn.
Well, Iona ventured after a while, at least you will never be alone.
Idris snorted softly. Being in the presence of the royal family is not that different from being alone. You are expected to stand in silence and keep watch for any threats.
There was a short pause, during which Idris felt an unusual emotion passing through his partisan.
What I mean, she said, is that you will always have me.
Her quiet words filled him with so much warmth and gratitude that he felt he could burst. He found himself wishing that Iona was in a different form, so he could embrace her. In his mind, he imagined her in human form—the same form that he used when he needed to visualize them working together. She always appeared to him to have the same sort of features as his sisters. Idris closed his eyes and imagined him hugging that human version of Iona. Somehow, it felt as though he were doing it in reality.
Thank you, he thought to her.
Idris could tell that Iona was rather pleased with his reaction to her words. Of course, she replied simply.
Idris resumed his training with a much more optimistic frame of mind. His life may not turn out like he had imagined it as a child, but he already knew that would be the case. After all, he had never thought that he would be anything other than a farmer. He had assumed that he would work with his father on the family farm, slowly taking over as his parents aged. That would never happen now, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t find happiness in another way.
The work he was doing really mattered—not more or less than running a farm, but in a different way. He was surrounded by a nontraditional sort of family, for the members of the Royal Guard truly thought of each other that way. And, he had Iona to be his friend and companion. It was a life that could be just as happy as any other.
Smiling at the realization, Idris summoned a ball of energy with hardly any thought. He flicked his partisan forward, sending an arc of fire over the water.
Chapter Six: The Three Sparrows
Idris never would have thought it possible for him to lose track on time when traveling by ship. The first day had been so unpleasant for him that he assumed each hour would be burned into his mind. Happily for him, the herbs given to him by Cowan kept his seasickness at bay, leaving his mind free to focus on the training he received.
The days passed by quickly, bringing Idris ever closer to calling fire at will. Aherin was also excelling, and even Hildar had overcome the first difficulties she had experienced. She was now able to work with Cowan’s staff—although, not as well as when she worked with Iona.
They trained a large portion of every day, alternating between physical exercises and practicing with their weapons. The first few days were exhausting to Idris, but he steadily began building his stamina. Even with his improvement, it left little time for Idris to do anything else.
Idris wasn’t exactly certain how many days they had been at sea when his training was interrupted by a bustle of activity on the deck of the ship. The lookout high above their heads was shouting something that Idris couldn’t quite understand.
“What is happening?” he asked Hildar.
An expression of relief crossed her face as she listened to what was being yelled. “Our destination is in sight. We should land by nightfall.”
Idris raced to the foredeck, straining to see any hint of land. On the horizon he spotted a dark line rising up out of the endless water. His heart gave a leap in his chest. “I see it,” he exclaimed.
At first, Idris wanted to stay by the railing and watch the approaching shoreline. However, there was so little change from one moment to the next that he felt his shoulders sinking towards his feet. It would be hours before he could escape the unforgiving motion of the ship—and the accompanying nausea.
He was about to go back to his training when he saw Hildar speaking to Captain Cowan. “The horses seem to be in good health,” she reported. “We should not push them, of course, but we can leave the port right after we land. Shall I order the ship to wait for us?”
“Yes,” answered Cowan. “I do not know where our ultimate destination will be, but it will be good to have your ship as an option for transportation.”
“Where will we be going?” Hildar asked.
“South,” Cowan said unhelpfully.
“Into Jish?” Hildar inquired. “Because there is a port we could sail to just past the border.”
Cowan shook his head. “No, we will be staying in Breen.”
Idris’s eyes widened. “We have left Calaris?” He had never been outside of his native country before.
Hildar shot him a look of disdain. “We left Calaris once we entered the open ocean. The seas belong to no one.”
Idris hated when she used her all-knowing tone of voice. “You know what I mean,” he grated.
“We will be landing in Breen,” Cowan interrupted, “the homeland of King Nikolas’s mother.”
Queen Roana had died when King Nikolas (then, Crown Prince Nikolas) was sixteen years old.
Idris had only ever seen a portrait of the beautiful lady, in one of the main halls of the Water Palace. He had been struck by her rich red hair and kind expression. Although the latter may have simply been an invention of the artist, it was generally accepted that Roana had been a good and generous queen.
“My father has cousins among the Breen gentry,” Hildar offered. “Will we need a place to stay?”
Cowan shook his grizzled head. “No, our accommodations will be cared for.”
Idris and Hildar exchanged curious glances, but their leader offered no further information. He walked away, leaving the two young soldiers on their own.
“Well,” muttered Hildar, “now we know that we are going to the south of Breen.”
“Do you know the area well?” Idris asked.
She frowned. “No, I have only visited Breen a few times. Father was considering betrothing me to one of the nobles in the northern province, but negotiations fell through.”
“Lucky for you,” Aherin said as he walked up to them. “I hear Breenites are insufferably arrogant.”
Hildar gave him a small smile. “No more than any other group of nobles.”
Idris tried to get Hildar to tell him more about Breen, but she soon grew impatient and said she didn’t have time for his questions. She left Idris and Aherin to pass the slow hours on their own.
Idris marveled that time could seem to gallop past at one moment and then appear to stand still the next. He could hardly focus on his training, he was so anxious to reach the port. When they finally were close enough that Idris could make out some of the details of the city, he stopped his training and returned to the railing.
The city reminded him of the harbor in Marath. There were boats of all sizes, used for a variety of purposes. There were stalls where people could buy fresh fish, catering to a steady stream of customers. Idris was still too far away to hear any noise, but he could imagine what it was like.
They pulled into harbor just as the sun was setting. Idris was among the first to run down the gangplank, a wide grin fixed on his face. He didn’t even care about the amused chuckles that his actions brought to the experienced sailors.
Cowan looked at the sky with a slight frown. “It is too late in the day for us to set out. We will find an inn for the night.”
Captain Morn, who was arranging for their horses to be brought ashore, paused to offer some advice. “Down that road,” he said, pointing, “there is an inn called The Three Sparrows. It is quite reputable.”
Cowan nodded his thanks and took the reins of the nearest horse. “You are to stay in this port until you receive word from us to do otherwise,” he instructed the sea captain.
Morn made a small bow. “Of course, sir. I will follow any instructions from you or Lady Hildar.”
All of the horses were ones loaned to them by King Nikolas, so it didn’t matter who rode which one. Two of the horses had beautiful bay coats, one was a sleek dun, and Captain Cowan was holding the bridle of the black mare. Idris approached the dun mare with a smile. She reminded him of one of the horses his father used on the farm.
“Hello, there,” he said softly, rubbing the horse’s nose. “Would you mind carrying me around on this journey?”
The horse didn’t seem to mind at all. She investigated his hair and hands for a moment before nickering. Idris grinned. “I wish I knew your name,” he murmured.
“Come along, farmer,” Aherin teased, clapping him on the shoulder. “No need to commune with the horse.”
Idris tied his bag and his covered partisan to the saddle of the dun, then took hold of the reins. He felt slightly self-conscious as he mounted; the others were waiting for him. The small group rode down the street in the direction Captain Morn had indicated.
“What is this city called?” Idris asked Hildar.
“Acko,” she answered. “Although, it can hardly be called a city.”
“Well, it is certainly bigger than Rest Stone Valley,” Idris commented.
A small smile touched Hildar’s lips. “Most places are.”
Idris chuckled. “I suppose so.”
There were a number of things that Idris noticed about Acko. The climate was warmer than in Marath, making it feel like spring was approaching. There was also a much larger number of animals roaming around. Some were stock animals, but most of them appeared to be pets. Idris saw a woman with a large lizard perched on her shoulder as she walked down the street. The people were dressed in a similar style as natives to Calaris, but the cloth used had a wider variety of color.
The Three Sparrows Inn was a short ride from the harbor. They dismounted and handed their reins to the stable boy who came out to greet them. They each took their bags and weapons before walking into the wooden building.
The common room was spacious, with chairs and tables set in even intervals. A wide staircase led up to the bedrooms, and a door at the back of the room led to the kitchen. Everything was clean, as if it was scrubbed daily. A large fireplace on the side of the room crackled merrily, sending out waves of warmth.
A plump serving girl with a wide smile walked up to them, her hips swaying as she moved. “Welcome to The Three Sparrows,” she said with a curtsy. “Are you looking for beds or a meal?”
“Both,” Cowan answered.
Her smile widened as she studied Aherin. “Of course,” she nodded, “it would be an honor to serve you. I will go fetch the proprietor and tell the cook to prepare your food.”
A middle-aged woman with abundant curly hair was already approaching them. “Thank you, Maren,” she said to the girl. “Return to your duties.”
The serving girl gave Aherin a lingering glance before walking away. The middle-aged woman’s lips tightened slightly, and Idris had the feeling that the girl would be getting a lecture later.
“I am Goodwoman Tale, the owner of this inn. How may I assist you this evening?”
Captain Cowan bowed to the woman. “I am Kieran,” he lied smoothly, “a traveling scholar, and these are my students. We would like rooms and a meal, Goodwoman Tale.”
If the inn owner suspected anything, she gave no indication. “Separate rooms, or all together?” she inquired.
“Separate.”
Goodwoman Tale nodded, waving over a wiry lad who was adding wood to the fire. “Boy, take the bags of our guests to their rooms. Use the four rooms at the end of the hall.”
The lad did as he was told, lugging all four bags up the stairs. While Cowan and Goodwoman Tale discussed price, the serving girl reappeared from the kitchen with a tray. She gestured for the young soldiers to come take a seat by the fireplace.
“It is so cold outside,” she said sympathetically, placing a plate of rice and stew in front of Aherin. “It is a pity you came to our town during the winter. The summers here are quite beautiful.”
“It seems warm to me,” Idris replied.
Maren glanced at him in surprise. “Oh, are you from the mountains?”
Hildar shot him a warning look, which he caught just in time to change what he was saying. “N-yes. Yes.”
“Which ones?” Maren asked as she placed a plate in front of Hildar.
Idris’s mind was racing, trying to come up with something believable to say. Luckily, the serving girl seemed more eager to talk to Aherin. She chatted on, sparing Idris his embarrassment.
“I have never been to the mountains, myself,” she said with a giggle. “Perhaps you think me a bumpkin for admitting that. I have always wanted to go, though. I want to travel the world.”
Maren leaned in to hand Aherin a tankard of cider, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. Hildar looked thoroughly irritated with the attention Aherin was receiving. She cleared her throat and said in a brusque tone, “Thank you, girl, we will call you if we need anything.”
Maren pursed her lips and sniffed, sweeping back to the kitchen as if deeply affronted. Cowan sat down to join them, taking in the situation with a glance. “Aherin,” he rumbled, “I would rather you focus
on our task instead of flirting with the locals.”
Aherin held up his hands. “I was not flirting,” he insisted.
“You were not discouraging her, either,” Hildar snapped.
“Who am I to turn away a friendly conversation?” Aherin asked innocently.
“And you,” Hildar hissed, rounding on Idris, “telling a complete stranger the details of our mission. You should have gathered from what was said to the innkeeper that we are not sharing why we are here.”
Idris’s jaw dropped open. “I did not tell her anything,” he defended.
“You told her enough,” Hildar sneered.
Aherin leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. “Why are you so angry, Hildar? Nothing has happened to merit this kind of reaction.”
Hildar’s face flushed scarlet. “Nothing except encourage a girl that probably throws herself at every sailor that comes to this miserable port,” she seethed. “I would not be surprised if she is on her way down to the harbor to flirt with every member of the crew of my ship.”
A stunned silence settled over the table. Cowan took a long drink from his tankard of cider before answering Hildar’s accusation. “Finish your meal,” he said to her, “then go get some sleep. We are all tired, and we will need our strength for the days ahead.”
Hildar’s mouth worked silently for a second before she stood up. “I am not hungry,” she said through gritted teeth.”
The three remaining Royal Guards watched her storm away without comment. Idris was completely baffled. “What is wrong with her?” he muttered.
“Maybe being away from her dagger for so long is affecting her thinking,” Aherin suggested.
Cowan shook his head. “No, that is not the problem.”
“What is it, then?” Idris asked.
Cowan placed a spoonful of rice and stew in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. After he swallowed, he simply said, “I think she is concerned about her ship staying here while we are gone.”
Aherin looked more confused than ever, but Idris suddenly understood. The Dagmar would be in port for an indefinite period of time, meaning the crew would be on leave. The sailors would be free to spend their time however—and with whomever—they pleased. Idris doubted that Hildar would care under normal circumstances, but Lennon was likely to cross paths with Maren the serving girl.
