Despite the initial excitement from the proclamation, Rinan suddenly felt a weight press down on him. Perhaps it was due to what Wayte had told him earlier, or maybe he suddenly realized the importance of the charge. Regardless, he put on a gracious smile in response to the applause and cheers.
Kenrik held up a hand, and the hall quieted. Turning his attention back to Eadward, the king said, “Eadward, your final duty is to train Rinan.”
Eadward nodded, though he looked as if he had just eaten something vile.
“Good,” the king said, either ignoring or not noticing Eadward’s reaction. “Royal Guardian Rinan, I want your training to start immediately. Please go with Eadward to escort my daughter back to her chambers.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” Rinan began to stand.
Touching her father’s arm, Eliana said, “I’m certain this is a task Rinan can do without Eadward’s help. After all, he has more than proven he can protect me.”
The king looked down at his daughter, and after pausing a moment, said, “Yes, of course. You’re quite right, dear. Eadward, you may remain. Rinan, you may escort the princess.”
Eliana stood, and the rest of the room followed. Rinan walked over to her, bowed, and motioned for her to lead on. Smiling, she nodded to him. As they walked out of the hall, they passed Eadward, who was once again glaring, his face a most unpleasant shade of red.
Rinan took his position slightly behind and to the side of Eliana, as was customary. While walking down the well-lit hallway that led from the banquet hall to the princess’s chambers, he tried to think of something to say, but everything he came up with sounded weak.
Eliana strode on confidently, not rushing, but not going slowly, either. Arriving at the large stairway that led to the upper levels, she put one hand almost daintily on the banister and started to ascend. Rinan followed a respectful distance behind.
At the top of the stairs hung a large tapestry. While most of the tapestries in the castle depicted various landscapes or former members of royalty, this one was unique. In addition to being the largest by a good margin, it was the only one that depicted more than one person. It showed five men standing around a table, on which sat a thick, leather-bound book. A large plaque below the tapestry read, “The authors of the Tome of Laws.” Rinan often wondered why, in a castle built for kings and queens, the most honorific display was given to magistrates.
When she arrived at the top of the stairs, Eliana continued on toward her chambers, with Rinan close behind.
“I was hoping it would be you,” she said, startling Rinan, not only in breaking the silence, but at what she had said.
“Oh? And why is that, Princess?” Rinan asked, for lack of a better response.
Eliana stopped, faced him, and appeared to consider him a moment before speaking. “From my point of view,” she said, “everyone here is so serious. It’s all about duty and following protocols. It’s about doing what we are expected to do. People forget there is more to life than that.”
The statement confused Rinan. “I’m not sure how that pertains to me, Princess. I’ve always tried to fulfill my duties to the best of my ability.”
“Oh, I am sure you have, or my father wouldn’t have selected you. It’s more than that. I’ve seen you admire the tapestries when you thought no one was watching. I’ve heard from the savants that you’ve done well in your studies and have not only learned how to read, but have requested books to read on your own time. I’ve watched you in the sparring contests, and you seem to enjoy yourself, while others treat it as life or death. I wanted my next personal guardian to be someone who actually takes time to enjoy life.”
Rinan couldn’t think of a proper reply, but fortunately Eliana spared him the embarrassment of standing there like a fool and continued down the hallway.
A thrill tickled the back of Rinan’s neck. So, the princess had been watching and noticing him. For the briefest of moments, he entertained the idea of him and Eliana…but no. She was to be married to someone else in a few months. Rinan was to be her personal guardian—nothing else.
Eliana stopped again, this time to face one of the hanging tapestries. “This is one of my favorites,” she said. The scene displayed a large tree perched majestically on a slightly sloping hill. In the background were the castle and the surrounding town. The flowers and green grass indicated it to be spring or summer, and although the sunshine was quite pronounced, dark storm clouds lingered on the horizon. The plaque read, “Rain and Sunshine.”
“It’s so peaceful,” Rinan commented.
Folding her arms, Eliana said, “It is, isn’t it? I’ve always wondered if the rain was about to arrive or if it was just leaving.”
“Funny you should say that. I’ve wondered the same thing as well.”
Arching an eyebrow, Eliana said, “Is that so? Well, perhaps it was crafted to beg such a question. I actually found this tree when I was younger. It’s not far from the castle. Growing up, I would always beg Anemone to take me there for picnics. I miss being able to do things like that.”
Turning suddenly toward Rinan, she poked him in the chest. “Just promise me you won’t be as stuffy as Eadward. That man is so dull. All he wants to talk about is the Shoginoc, or how I will rule Bariwon when I become queen. You must promise to let me have some fun once in a while.”
Looking into her sparkling blue eyes, Rinan doubted he could deny her anything. “I promise,” was all he could say.
***
Priest Sherwyn adjusted the light blue mantle draped over his golden-colored robe before standing to address the court. Captain Wayte of the royal guardians had just completed reporting on his most recent inspection. Several of the districts had been visited, and it didn’t surprise Sherwyn in the least that the report concerning Erd was less than favorable.
“I believe this to be a serious problem,” he said, coming to his feet.
King Kenrik, sitting upon his throne, frowned at the statement. “Would you care to elaborate, Priest Sherwyn?”
Walking out from behind the table where he had been seated, Sherwyn moved to a position where he could address the king, the savants, and the Hierarchy of Magistrates. Captain Wayte remained standing in the center of the hall, where he had just completed his report.
The hall was normally bright at this time of day, but overcast skies muted the light. Sherwyn noted that this was not unlike Abrecan’s shady tactics, and as the castle priest, he felt he should shed some light of knowledge on the subject.
“For years we’ve heard of Governor Abrecan’s questionable behavior, yet nothing has been done about it,” Sherwyn said. “You just heard Captain Wayte say that not only are there continuing concerns in Erd, but that Governor Abrecan may have the key to being selected at the next Shoginoc. I fear for Bariwon’s future if he is chosen.”
Kenrik’s eyebrows furrowed. “Magistrate Seanan, every concern about Abrecan has been investigated, yes?”
The head magistrate sat in the center of the table with the other four members of the hierarchy. Sherwyn had always liked and respected the man, though he feared time was taking its toll on the aged magistrate.
Seanan nodded, making the wisps of white hair on his head flutter. “Oh, yes, Your Majesty. While there have been some suspicious activities in recent years, the magistrate in Erd—Caldre is his name—assures me there have been no infractions to any of the rules found in the Tome of Laws.”
Sherwyn felt his position slipping. “Captain Wayte, will you explain what you found concerning Lady Calla?”
Seeming to sense Sherwyn’s urgency, Wayte said without preamble, “Governor Abrecan claims that his wife has been seriously ill and unable to make public appearances. Several people I spoke with told me her illness came on suddenly right after she had an argument with Abrecan at a social gathering.”
Rubbing his hand over his bald head, Sherwyn asked, “And were you able to meet with Lady Calla to confirm what happened?”
“No. I asked to
see her, but Abrecan would not allow it,” Wayte replied. “He said his wife needed her rest and was not to be disturbed.”
“That is a reasonable course of action, and not an infraction of the law,” Magistrate Seanan interjected.
Sherwyn sighed. “There is an old saying, ‘Clouds cannot hide the light of the sun forever.’ I submit to you that it is cloudy in Erd, and Abrecan is the storm.”
“That’s very poetic, Priest Sherwyn,” the king said. “But I am unclear on what action you think we should take.”
Clearing his throat and standing as tall as he could, Sherwyn then said, “I believe Governor Abrecan should be excluded from the Shoginoc.”
The hall exploded with both protest and support for the idea. The king rose and motioned the people to silence.
“Priest Sherwyn, the Shoginoc has helped keep the peace for generations. Unless there is proof of violations, we can’t exclude anyone.”
Sherwyn expected such a response. He didn’t truly believe Abrecan would be excluded, but he made his point and believed his next request would be considered. Facing the Hierarchy of Magistrates, he said, “Then I would appeal to the magistrates to consider carefully at the Shoginoc. There will be other districts attempting to prove their worth. I’m sure Governor Abrecan will have quite the showing, but I would beg of you to consider the other contestants seriously.”
***
“I wish you the best of luck …” Eliana said to the young man before her.
“Cameron,” he said, his eyes not meeting hers.
Eliana nodded. “Then, Cameron, I shall be watching for your number and color on the leader board.”
Rinan noticed that the young man continued to keep his eyes down, but there was something about his expression that led Rinan to believe his lowered gaze was less out of respect for the princess, and more out of his interest in the neckline of Eliana’s dress.
Trumpets blared, indicating that the participants of the Mortentaun should gather at their assigned areas. It also meant the spectators needed to find a spot to watch the events.
Rinan escorted the princess to the platform reserved for the royalty. As the first group of men lined up for the preliminary event, a short dash to determine who was the fastest runner, Rinan was reminded that just a few short years ago, he was competing for the chance to become a guardian.
He looked over the field, where thousands upon thousands had gathered on wooden risers and sloping hills to watch young men from all over Bariwon compete. Banners representing the seven districts of the kingdom sat atop tall polls, fluttering in the warm spring breeze. Under each banner stood the competitors.
Surrounding the main field were tents of both visitors and merchants. Over the generations, the Mortentaun had grown to become the largest festival of the year, and it was something Rinan looked forward to each spring when he was growing up. His father and mother always made the trip from Lebu to attend. His mother would enter baking contests and was well known for her tarts. His father, on the other hand, always managed to find a card game, or other games of skill or chance, to occupy his time. When Rinan was old enough, he was allowed to go out by himself to watch the contestants spar in preparation, and like most boys his age, he dreamed of competing one day. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would become the princess’s personal guardian.
After watching the morning’s events of the short dash, followed by a longer endurance run, Eliana once more went out among the crowd to visit with her future subjects. The crowd started to thin out some during the midday break, most people going to the merchants’ shops that had been set up around the field.
The break prompted Eliana to retire to a tent that had been set up just for her. Finding the servants had a lunch already prepared, Eliana dismissed them. “You’ve done well. Please go and enjoy the festivities.”
Rinan poured some water for Eliana, who had taken a seat next to a large gilded table set with bread, cheese, and sliced pears. There was also a tray covered with a large white cloth—a surprise Rinan had arranged for the princess.
“It’s such a beautiful day, don’t you think, Rinan?” Eliana asked.
Handing her the goblet of water, Rinan responded without thinking. “Not compared to you, Princess.”
Eliana paused at Rinan’s comment, then smiled at him. “Rinan, I do believe that is the sweetest thing I’ve heard you say.”
Rinan felt his cheeks redden and wondered if he should apologize. Surely it wasn’t appropriate for a guardian to say something like that to a member of the royalty. But the princess didn’t seem to take offense—if anything, she seemed to have enjoyed it. Thank goodness Eadward was helping to judge the Mortentaun, or Rinan was sure he would have been rebuked by the older guardian.
“Speaking of sweet things,” Rinan said, trying to change the subject, “I heard you liked these.”
He lifted the cloth that covered the tray on the table, revealing a plate of strawberries.
“Oh!” Eliana exclaimed with delight. “Where did you get these? I thought it was too early in the year for strawberries.”
“These are from Lebu, where I grew up,” Rinan answered, offering her one. “My mother uses them in the tarts she makes for the baking contests. She brought extra as a gift for you, Princess.”
“These are my favorite! Anemone would sometimes bring strawberries when we went on picnics when I was young.” Eliana had taken a strawberry from Rinan, but stopped before she put it to her lips. Looking at Rinan mischievously, she said, “I have an idea.”
“Oh?” Rinan answered, a bit uneasy.
“Remember the tree on the hill I told you about—the one on the tapestry by my chambers? It’s not far from here. Let’s go there.”
Clasping his hands behind his back, Rinan asked, “Are you sure your father would approve?”
Eliana started to gather up the food. “Why not? I’ve spent all morning among the crowds. We can still be back in time for the afternoon events.”
“Well, you are the princess.” Rinan grabbed a blanket that was covering one of the chairs.
“Look at it this way—I’ll have my personal guardian right beside me. How could anyone object to that?”
***
“That one looks like a sunflower.” Eliana pointed.
Rinan squinted and turned his head to one side. “Hmm. I guess.”
“Well, what do you think it looks like?”
“To be honest, it just looks like a cloud to me.”
Eliana flailed her arms in mock disgust. “Bah! You have no imagination.”
Sitting on the blanket Rinan provided and leaning against the tree on the sloped hill, the princess was gazing at the sky, with Rinan standing guard over her. The light breeze kept the late spring day from getting too warm and had a calming effect, especially when relaxing after a filling meal.
Softly in the distance, Rinan could hear the Mortentaun starting up again. “We should probably head back, Princess.” He offered a hand to help her up.
Eliana didn’t take his hand. “Just a little while more. I’m really enjoying this moment. My life has been so busy lately, it’s nice to take the chance to relax. Please sit down, Rinan.”
He paused a moment, then nodded in acknowledgement of her wish. He sat down next to her on the blanket and looked up again at Eliana’s sunflower cloud, and then beyond it, where dark clouds were forming on the horizon.
CHAPTER 2
“No, no, no!” Abrecan thundered, his voice echoing in the large room.
The man standing in front of the governor of Erd was visibly shaking, wringing his calloused hands nervously. “What would you have me do differently?” the metalworker asked, looking at the governor from under two bushy gray eyebrows.
Abrecan sat on a chair that could not quite be called a throne, but was of similar design. The room was patterned after the main hall of the castle, but instead of gold and royal blue, it was decorated in silver and crimson.
Sitting by Abrecan we
re two other men. On his left was Magistrate Caldre, bone-thin with a long, sharp nose and black hair pulled back into a ponytail. On Abrecan’s right was his son, Daimh, who was tall and muscular. Daimh fidgeted in his chair, appearing disinterested.
There was an obvious resemblance between Daimh and Abrecan. Both were strikingly handsome, though the governor had a sharp look of intelligence in his eyes that the young man lacked.
Thrusting the silver chalice at the metalworker, Abrecan said, “It’s too plain! It needs to impress any who see it. I want a new one right away—one worthy of a king. Now go!”
The metalworker all but ran from Abrecan, clutching the chalice to his chest. One of the guardians at the door gave the old man a swift kick in the rear as he left, bringing laughter from those in the room.
The only one who wasn’t laughing was Daimh. His head was tilted back against his chair. He sighed dramatically. “Father, must I really be here for this?”
In a practiced voice of tolerance, Abrecan said, “Son, if we are boring you, why don’t you go spar with one of the guardians?”
Daimh rose from his seat. “I suppose that would be more entertaining.” Walking over to the wall, he grabbed two large wooden swords from a weapons rack and ordered the nearest guardian, “Follow me.”
The chosen guardian looked around like a cornered animal. Unable to escape, he bowed his head in resignation and followed Daimh out of the room. The other guardians avoided looking anywhere but straight ahead, clearly not wanting to get Daimh’s attention.
Abrecan turned to Caldre. “It serves me right. His mother was beautiful when I met her, yet I’ve met rocks with more intelligence. I should have considered more than wealth and beauty when I married her.”
Not hearing this for the first time, Caldre reminded Abrecan in a somewhat nasally voice, “But without her family’s fortune, you wouldn’t have had the means to become governor—or to promote me to magistrate.”
The Hidden Sun (Bariwon Chronicles Book 1) Page 2
