The Prince of Exiles (The Exile Series)

by Hal Emerson

  “No, I do not accept.”

  Raven sat back down, while the Kindred broke into furious conversation, having largely forgotten that he existed in a literal sense, talking about him instead as an abstract entity.

  Leah was still next to him, and for a while they didn’t say anything, both uncomfortably sitting and watching the Elders talking animatedly among themselves. Strangely enough, it looked largely as if the topic at hand had been forgotten, and some other matter had come up, something that all of them seemed to find of interest.

  “Why didn’t they call for Goldwyn?” He asked suddenly, then remembered he was talking to the man’s daughter. “I mean – your father. Why not make him Prince of the Veil? He was the leader Autmaran talked about who would invade the Empire … I thought he would nominate him.”

  “Because he was already Prince once,” she said. “He was the third to survive.”

  “Oh,” Raven said, not knowing exactly how to respond. “And … if you’re the Prince once, and survive, you can’t be called again?”

  “That’s right,” Leah confirmed. “It would be like giving out a death sentence … it’s not a title that brings much joy. I don’t know why Autmaran is so convinced we need one.”

  They fell silent again as the Kindred continued to talk furiously to each other – shouts rang out around the Odeon, but no one called on Raven, and the Elders were still engaged in conversation amongst themselves. Tomaz looked exasperated, but he kept looking over his shoulder at the stage, waiting to quiet them all until the Elders were ready to speak.

  “Look,” said Leah, speaking quickly, not looking in his direction. “No one turns down this position. I think you were right to do so – but you need to know you may have seriously offended a large portion of the Kindred.”

  “What?”

  “Usually the nomination is a formality,” she said. “You wouldn’t have been chosen. It would have been more … politically correct to have accepted the nomination and then let the motion be defeated.”

  “No,” he said, “I don’t want anything to do with it. You keep telling me the Kindred value honesty and openness – well now they have it.”

  “You have a fair point,” she said, speaking calmly, trying to mollify him, “and I have no problem with you turning it down. I just wanted you to know. So from now on … be careful.”

  Raven looked around and saw a number of Kindred, some who had already been shouting against him before, looking even angrier now that he’d refused the nomination. He looked away quickly, facing forward, trying to appear invisible, wishing he could disappear.

  “Why did you turn it down?” She asked.

  “I don’t think you have a chance,” he said evasively, not wanting to get into the details. “I would never chose to fight any of my brothers and sisters … and an invasion would throw you straight into Dysuna and the province of Tibour. If you had twice her numbers, you’d still be lucky to come out of that place with a single man left. All who enter the grasslands die. And even if by some miracle you fended her off, there would have been enough time by then for Rikard to summon his legions, and my brother is such a thing that no mortal man can stand against. He is the closest among us to a god, like Mother.”

  He paused and swallowed heavily.

  “Closest among them,” he amended, more for her sake than for his. He knew who his siblings were, the proof of it was branded into the skin of his back, and he was not likely to forget it anytime soon. But she didn’t have that constant reminder, and for her it was easier to forget.

  Leah was silent as the conversation among the Elders went on, Elder Warryn apparently making a long speech now, one spoken softly to the other Elders that didn’t carry beyond the stage. The other Kindred were beginning to get restless, and more of them now had noticed this conversation taking place and were starting to murmur questions to each other, wondering what it could be about.

  “I agree with you,” Leah said.

  He looked at her, surprised, but then realized he shouldn’t be. She was proud, true, but Leah was, above all things, coldly pragmatic, and not given to self-deception. She would be among the first to admit invasion did not favor the Kindred.

  “What would you recommend we do though?” She continued. “What do you think is the best way forward for us, now that we have Roarke?”

  Raven thought about it, and then decided to speak his mind:

  “I think Roarke may be an unnecessary burden on the Kindred,” he said. “I think that –”

  “I wish to say something,” said the pompous voice of Elder Warryn.

  Everyone quieted immediately, and all turned to look at him, even some who had already stood and begun to make their way to the exits, assuming the Forum was over. They all paused and turned back, curious about what was happening.

  “I speak now with a heavy heart,” Warryn said, some of his uptight officiousness gone. The tension and weight Raven had seen in him earlier was out on display now for all to see.

  “As many of you are aware, I had a … disagreement, with a member of the Kindred while camped outside Roarke.”

  Raven froze again.

  Shadows and light, this cannot be happening to me.

  “The subject of that conversation is unimportant,” Warryn continued, “though I still wish to stress that what I said I said out of love for the Kindred and duty to my home land, with no personal stake in it whatsoever. My whole life I have dedicated myself to this position –”

  There was a soft throat-clearing noise that came from Elder Spader, forcing Warryn to cut off his rambling self-exaltation.

  “–but in a few short minutes that was all ruined. And now, I stand before you, to say that while I have done no real wrong, I am a man of my word. And as such, with my display of passion for the Kindred cause against what I deem a very dangerous and deranged young man, I violated one of the oaths, sworn by the Elders, and, as a man of my word, I am bound to …”

  “Pompous, stuck-up, officious windbag.“

  It was Leah who had muttering this string of adjectives under her breath, staring daggers at Warryn. Raven had to admit he agreed with her, though he decided he shouldn’t voice his own opinion – some of the Kindred were still looking at him dangerously.

  “And as such,” Warryn continued, slowing down now as he got to the end of his speech; the man’s mouth was pursed in such intense disgust that he looked like he’d swallowed a whole lemon, “I am stepping down. I am hereby officially renouncing my position as the Elder of State.”

  At first no one seemed to understand what was really going on. Some seemed to think it was a joke and laughed, but these outbursts were quickly absorbed and contained by the profound silence around them. Some looked relieved – Autmaran looked downright joyful for a moment before quickly covering it up – and some, Henri Perci among them, raised voices in protest, though Tomaz stood and glowered at those who did and they quieted themselves quickly.

  Elder Warryn took the dagger, the sambolin, from around his neck, and bowed his head, looking very displeased and hiding it poorly. From the looks of the other Elders though, this was something they were forcing him to do, and something they all agreed on.

  Autmaran stepped forward, surprising everyone.

  “In his place I nominate General Goldwyn,” he said quickly, before anyone could stop him.

  There was a moment of quiet as this suggestion penetrated, and then slowly murmurs rose in agreement, building louder and louder.

  “A nomination has been given!” Elder Crane called out, stepping forward and neatly sidestepping the stunned former-Elder Warryn in the process, plucking the dagger from his hands before he could make a word or motion of protest.

  “Who here wishes to choose as the next State Elder, William Goldwyn, the High Commander of the Armies of the Kindred and Scholar of War?”

  There was a loud cry of approval, as the idea continued to build, floating around the arena on the winged lips of the gathered crowd.
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  “Elders!” Crane said, turning to those gathered around him. “We need to fill this position – does anyone wish to confirm the nomination?”

  “I do,” Spader said immediately, stepping forward. He’d somewhere found a glass and filled it with amber liquid and was sipping it calmly, completely oblivious to the scandalized stare of the Elder Dragon Lady.

  “Myself as well,” said Ishmael, also coming forward.

  “And I,” said Keri, stepping forward with an eager smile.

  “I approve,” said Demeter, the Elder of Agriculture, looking matronly in her deep green robes.

  “And I,” said Lymaugh is his chocolate brown.

  “Me as well,” said Ekman in his bright blue.

  “That is a majority,” Crane concluded quickly, before Elder Dragon Lady could speak, though both she and Stanton the Engineer Elder looked highly affronted by this hasty ceremony. “The nomination is confirmed and we put it to a vote – Kindred!”

  Crane turned back to the gathered men and women, and seemed to expand in size, as if he were suddenly tall as Tomaz. It wasn’t that his height actually changed, it was something in his demeanor and stance, his shoulders and bearing. Raven saw then what he had seen just once before, when the Ox Lord had invaded Vale: a man of secret power and endless strength, like a deep current hidden beneath the surface of a placid river.

  “We have nominated for Elder of State William Goldwyn, the only man in our lifetime to survive his tenure as Prince of the Veil; the general who, through cunning and guile, has secured our borders against the long arm of the Empire; the scholar who, through patience and love, has always sought to enlighten the minds of those who come to him lost in the darkness.”

  Cheers shouted out here as Crane finished the grand build, whipping the Kindred into a state of excitement. He was truly remarkable now – he was speaking with power and majesty, his quiet reserve momentarily discarded.

  Who is this Goldwyn, that he could provoke such a reaction?

  “Do you agree to choose him?” Called Crane finally, and a huge cheer went up around the gathered assembly, and there was no doubting how they felt. They all stood then, a huge wave of motion, and the scribe popped up again, quickly scanning the crowd, making brusque notations on his sheaf of paper, bespectacled nose pressed so close to the page Raven felt sure the man would be splattered in ink by the time he was done.

  The Wise Elder crossed to the man and looked at the sheet, though Raven was sure this was mostly a matter of ritual – there could be no doubt the vote was nearly unanimous.

  “It is decided!” Crane called out, spinning around and smiling at the crowd, his kind face once again losing years of age when it showed that expression of joy.

  The Kindred roared in approval, and Leah jumped to her feet, shouting and cheering along with the rest of them, surprising Raven with her exuberance.

  And then the crowd parted and a single, lone figure began to make his way down to the stage. The men and women parted quickly for him, aware of his passage, making his way easy and straight.

  Raven caught glimpses of him only – a flash of a tall silhouette, a brief impression of wide shoulders, but the Kindred were too close to see more.

  He lifted himself up on his toes, straining to see, caught up in the excitement in spite of himself. Leah was cheering so hard she was red in the face, and smiling and laughing like a madwoman. Most of the Kindred nearby were in a similar state, the only visible exception being Warryn, who stood forgotten behind Elder Crane, with a petulant, murderous look that implied he would claw off the face of anyone who dared speak to him.

  Goldwyn finally reached the bottom of the stadium, and made his way onto the wooden platform at the center.

  The man was tall, just over six feet it seemed, and he had the same grace of movement as both Leah and Davydd. He had long, graying golden hair that fell in waves down to his shoulders, with a high forehead and streaks of white at the temples. His face was old and lined, like Crane’s, but his back was straight and he carried himself with surpassing dignity, almost with an arrogance that tempted fate. It made sense – only the dangerously brave or the scandalously lucky would dare stand so openly as a symbol of Exiled defiance.

  Crane clasped hands with Goldwyn and spoke some words to him. The two men smiled like old friends, and it seemed to Raven as if they could be brothers.

  Goldwyn turned to the crowd and raised a gnarled hand, one worn and strong from what could only be countless years of physical toil. The Kindred fell silent and waited.

  “I accept your nomination, and will serve you to the best of my abilities.”

  The voice that rolled out of the man’s mouth was a rich baritone, much like Davydd’s, full and deep, the words coming from the whole body, projected effortlessly across the wide space of the Odeon. He smiled, and bowed to the Kindred, and they cheered for him once more.

  Crane came up to him and touched him on the shoulder, and Goldwyn knelt down in a single, fluid motion. He might be old, but his body moved with the precision and ease of a much younger man.

  “Do you swear to protect the Kindred, with your heart and mind, your body and soul, for as long as it is asked of you?”

  “I do.”

  “And do you swear to protect the knowledge entrusted to you, as Elder of State? To guard our secrets with your very life?”

  “I do.”

  “And do you renounce all previous titles, all property and wealth you have owned, but for your home and personal effects?”

  “I do so happily.”

  “Then rise Elder, and take your place among us.”

  Goldwyn stood, and exchanged a smile with Crane, and the crowd cheered once more. Crane spoke something to Goldwyn, talking directly into his ear so as to be heard over the noise, and then he handed Goldwyn the dagger – the sambolin.

  Immediately Goldwyn tensed, and his face went slack. Even from the distance, Raven could see his eyes glaze over as he stared inward at what must be hundreds of memories and impressions of lives.

  I wonder if that’s how I look when I take a life?

  And then Goldwyn came back to reality, prompted by the touch of Crane’s hand on his shoulder, and, breathing heavily, the new Elder smiled and laughed, shaking his head in wonder.

  He turned to the crowd and raised his hands, as Crane had done.

  “My friends, thank you for this gift! The Forum is now ended. I wish you all a day of laughter, and a night of dreams. I will see you when you wake.”

  “WE WILL SEE YOU WHEN WE WAKE!”

  Chapter Seven: Elder Goldwyn

  “This is great!” Leah cried to Raven over the fading sound of the Forum, slugging him in the arm. They were in the process of leaving the Odeon – after Goldwyn had pronounced the Forum over, the Kindred had all begun to leave. The Elders had stayed behind to entertain a few questions by those who had chosen to approach them individually, but otherwise the ritual was over and the joviality of the returning army was back once more as friends and families reunited.

  Leah whooped loudly and punched him in the arm again, this time with all of her considerable strength.

  “Ouch! Shadows and light woman!”

  She smiled wickedly at him.

  “I had no idea princelings bruised so easily.”

  “Stop it,” he growled, annoyed, “I’m not a Prince anymore, and I think I just proved I don’t want to be. It would help if you didn’t broadcast the fact – I think I’m unpopular enough already. Not that Autmaran helped at all … ”

  “You’re worried about that?” She asked incredulously, and then smiled so wide she was practically beaming. Raven didn’t think he’d ever seen her smile quite like that before, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. It was like seeing a horse walk on two legs while juggling expensive cutlery – dangerous, and more than a little unnerving.

  “Shouldn’t I be?” He asked cautiously, keeping his distance. He felt like she might decide at any point to abandon decorum altogether a
nd hug him, and he didn’t know if he’d be able to deal with that.

  “No!” She scoffed. “We just elected a new Elder, that’s all anyone will be talking about for weeks.”

  “Oh,” Raven said, very relieved, “well good. Though I’m still considering smothering the Major in his sleep.”

  “Don’t say things like that,” she chided him, exasperated, “it’s a great honor to be asked.”

  They had just finished walking down the steps of the Odeon to the main road that led the way to the city proper, when a shout caught their attention.

  “Leah!”