The Book of One: A New Age

by Jordan Baker

  “It didn’t occur to me at all. I hope I didn’t offend Ehlena’s aunt. I didn’t even expect to stay here. I just wanted to get her home. It seemed like the right thing to do,” he stammered.

  “And so it was. Don’t worry about Lady Valamyr, you’re a small fish and so long as she doesn’t think you’re after her fortune, I think she’ll like you. My goodness, it’s refreshing in this city to talk to someone so guileless as you.” Aaron thanked him. Carlis told him a little bit more about what he did in the city and was pleased to hear that Aaron was from Ashford.

  “So, Lady Elaine asked me to help you get started. Well, you’re definitely strong. And I see you carry a sword. Do you know how to use it?” Carlis asked. Aaron nodded. “You might do well at the Military Academy? What are your resources, skills? Let’s call this an interview,” Carlis said as he took a seat on the corner of one of the heavy wood tables in the room. Aaron opened up his saddlebags and started pulling things out.

  “Well, I have a small bit of money but I’m not sure what it’s worth.” Aaron handed over the pouch he had taken from the cottage and told Carlis about the honest innkeeper. Carlis held the pouch closed in his hand while he listened as Aaron continued. “I worked as a blacksmith, fixing tools and ploughshares...and I learned how to handle weapons from my uncle. He also schooled me in history and had me study languages though I don’t know if I’m good at any of them since I’ve never really been anywhere except Ashford, and now here.” Carlis nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe I could be a guard or something, or maybe a hunter. I’ve lived in the forest my whole life and I can track just about anything. Since I don’t know anyone or have any family, now that my uncle is gone, maybe the army would take me. I really don’t know what else I’d be good for.” Aaron shrugged and put his thumbs in the front of his belt.

  “I see,” said Carlis, pondering. “Weapons, history, and languages. It sounds like you’ve had as good an education as any highborn in Maramyr ,my boy,” Carlis said, but using the High Kandran language. It was a test.

  “You think so?” Aaron answered back in the same tongue.

  “I do. And furthermore I find it curious that you lived in Ashford.” Carlis switched to an Elvan with an accent that sounded a little strange to Aaron’s ears but he understood it. Aaron answered back in his best Elvan and Carlis’ eyes widened a bit. “Old Elvan at that! Well done!” He smiled then broke into Ansari, the language of the eastern desert.

  “I always thought it a waste of time, no one speaks the desert language in Ashford,” Aaron answered in his best Bashane, a common dialect of the Ansari. The older man looked pleased. Carlis asked what other languages Aaron spoke. Aaron told him of the others and that he also wrote in most of them.

  “Well, I think the Academy is a splendid idea! We can probably get you in if you’d like. I have a friend there who is the Senior Captain and he might be willing to work something out for you. What do you think?”

  “That would be great.” Aaron wondered that things were turning out better than he could have imagined, considering how he had felt these past days.

  “Well, the only other thing we should consider is your finances.” Carlis pulled the leather strings of the money pouch apart and opened it.

  “I don’t know if there’s enough there to pay for the Academy,” Aaron said, hoping his gold would be enough. Carlis laughed when he saw what the pouch contained.

  “There’s certainly enough here to last you a good long while, far too much to be carrying around, in fact. The best part, my boy, the High Academy doesn’t cost a thing, sort of an old tradition. One of the few things that is still funded by the palace, I guess King Cerric still appreciates the value of defendable borders, and having half the nobles of neighboring lands attending school in Maramyr makes us less convenient to attack. All the nobles receive free military training so long as they promise to obey the king and respect his wishes. But you’ll learn all about that at the Academy.”

  “Let’s see if we can sneak you in as a minor noble of some kind. You’ll do better with your languages and studies that way. In the meantime, I can keep hold of your money for you and even have it invested if you would like,” he offered. “Only safe things, of course. I’ve never been much of a risk taker. Then, if you should want it or need it for anything, you just come see me.”

  Aaron decided he might as well trust the man. Lady Valamyr was respectable to the point of even disapproving of Aaron himself. If Carlis was a trusted friend of hers, then he could probably do worse than trusting him as well.

  “As long as I can get it if I need it,” Aaron said, still a little hesitant.

  “Any time,” Carlis told him then he took out a few of the gold pieces and handed them to Aaron. “You should keep a few coins for walking around. Always good to have a couple coins in your pocket.”

  Aaron nodded.

  “One more thing, before I go,” said Carlis. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about this sword. It’s not a standard blade. I don’t know much about using swords but I do know how they are made and this one was very well made indeed. But that’s beside the point; this sword with its fat red ruby on the pommel has some definite significance here in Maramyr. Where did you get it?”

  Aaron told him that it had been his uncle’s and that he had been a Captain of something in Maramyr. He showed Carlis the royal writ of promotion and the man’s eyebrows raised a bit. “Tarnath Coromay,” Carlis read the name aloud. “This is going to be easier than I thought.” He seemed pleased. “You say this man trained you, that he was your uncle?”

  “He did, and yes he was,” Aaron said, fighting back the flood of emotions at having lost the old man who was pretty much a parent to him his entire life. Carlis seemed to sense Aaron's discomfort and quickly continued.

  “Very good. Let’s see if we can’t get you an introduction at the Academy. And I’ll give you a piece of sound advice. Don’t let anyone see the hilt of this sword. You’ll have to wrap it anyway once you’re at the Academy so I don’t see it as a problem. I remember this man Tarnath. He left the city a long time ago on shaky terms with the King, well the Regent Cerric, who likes to call himself a king. Now that I think back, I may have met your uncle once or twice and I’m sure that my friend at the Academy knew him quite well. I’ll let him know, but for now but just keep that bit of information to yourself. You never can be too careful these days.”

  Aaron nodded again, not quite understanding all of what Carlis was talking about.

  “The man’s name is Nathas, Senior Captain Nathas. Listen, don’t worry about a thing. I’ll talk to him this evening on my way back to the palace. I’ve got to go there on business anyway. I’ll send someone around either tomorrow or the next day to let you know.” Carlis shook Aaron’s hand and headed for the door and then paused before exiting.

  “In the meantime you should see a bit of Maramyr. They don’t let you out of the Academy very often once you’re in and it would pay to do a bit of exploring. Oh, and watch out for the east quarter. And remember, wrap that hilt, dark blue leather would be best if you can find some. It’ll mark you as Maramyrian. Goodnight master Aaron.” he waved and let himself out.

  Aaron sat down on his bed and breathed a sigh. Lord Carlis was a talkative man. Aaron could see why he had done well as negotiator for the King. He immediately seemed trustworthy and Aaron hoped that he proved to be that since he had just given him most of his money. Shrugging off any worries he had, he decided to retire early and get a good sleep. The day had been long enough already. Just as Aaron was getting ready for bed there came a knock on the door to his room. He called for whomever it was to enter. It was Ehlena. She was dressed for bed as well.

  “Hello Aaron. I guess you met Carlis. What did he say?” she sat on the edge of his bed.

  “Yes, well he seemed pretty confident that I should go to the Academy. He even thinks he might get me into the High Academy.”

  “The High Academy?” she asked. Aaron nodded. “That Carlis is
pretty clever. I can see why my aunt likes him,” she told him.

  “Well, he seems like he knows a lot, ” Aaron agreed. “You think it might be a good choice, the Academy, I mean?”

  “Oh it is, Aaron. It would be wonderful for you,” she said excitedly at first then she became quiet as she reflected further. “I guess that means we won’t see each other much after. I hear they don’t let you out of the Academy for a year, except for during festivals and maybe a formal march or two in the great square.”

  “Really?” Aaron was somehow not surprise. While Carlis had not mentioned any of that, he suspected that Lady Valamyr might not want him spending too much time with her niece.

  “Oh, it’s always the way and it makes sense. But I fear that living with my aunt, I won’t be able to come visit. It wouldn’t be proper. I may be young but I’m not dense. My aunt, as much as she complains about the Alghars and their sense of honour, she’s got her own obsession about things being proper. I do think she likes you and we’re all in your debt, me most of all, but in her eyes, you’re not proper.” she frowned a little. “I’m going to miss you Aaron. You’ve been a good friend.” she spoke haltingly.

  “It’s all right,” Aaron assured her. “We can still be friends. Maybe I can visit once in a while. Besides, you’ll probably be busy anyway. Carlis tells me that this is a big city with lots of things to do.”

  “Yes, I know that, but Aunt Elaine is already talking about shipping me off to her country estate, which in her world probably means first thing in the morning. I just snuck over to see you because I wanted to say a proper goodbye.” She sniffed a little then leaned in close to him and kissed him, catching him completely off guard. Then she said “Goodnight,” then rose and left. Confounded by the girl, Aaron took a deep breath and lay back on his bed in wonderment, noticing the faint scent of flower petals that still lingered in the air.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Queen Calexis lay back on the sheer fabric covering the expansive bed enjoying the smooth softness against her naked skin. Her soldiers had reported that the trader who had been transporting the material told them it had been spun by worms of some kind. She luxuriated among the fine sheets not caring where it was from whence they had come. They felt glorious.

  A slow chime could be heard from outside the Queen’s chamber. She closed her eyes and listened to the solid footsteps as they traversed the long hall growing closer. It would be one of her generals. Only the soldiers walked so heavily in her palace. Calexis wondered which one it would be. She hoped it would be one of the younger ones. She always enjoyed looking at them when they entered her domain. As the sound grew closer, Calexis carefully reached among the bedsheets and wrapped her fingers around the hilt of a long, jewelled sword. She tilted her head upward as the man entered the room, clad only in light cotton breeches and boots.

  It had been one of Calexis’ first decrees upon assuming the Xallan throne that no one should enter her presence able to conceal a weapon of any kind. After all, she of all people knew how dangerous it was to sit in that particular chair and that those who were not careful, did not sit in it for long. General Nazar stood at the far edge of his Queen’s chamber. He was visibly uncomfortable and did not approve of this rule of the young Queen. Calexis motioned for him to approach her as she rose from her bed, clad only in a sheer bedsheet, and carrying the wickedly sharp looking blade that trailed lazily from her hand..

  Calexis was young, the youngest child of King Nerak and the only surviving member of the royal family. The General marveled at how such a beautiful and innocent-looking girl could have murdered her entire family and still smile so comfortably at him. He caught himself staring at her naked body and forced his eyes to meet her and fought the arousal that he felt twitching in his loins. Calexis noticed his discomfort and smiled impishly as she noticed him adjusting his stance.

  “General, I am touched that you feel that way about me,” she teased. Calexis smiled to herself. This was Nazar’s first visit to her palace and she wondered just how uncomfortable this gruff old soldier was now that he was completely disarmed, well almost. The man frowned and saluted his Queen.

  “My Queen, I am here to report on our campaign against the Kingdom of Quan,” he told her, hoping that talk of business would distract him sufficiently from the Queen’s physicality. Calexis lifted her sword and gestured between the General’s legs.

  “Do not apologize. I’ll accept that as a salute. Things are as they should be General. Now tell me about Quan. Have they accepted my terms?” Calexis touched the tip of her sword to the stone floor and idly spun the blade.

  “Yes my Queen. But they ask that you make one concession to them?” he told her. General Nazar already knew what would be her answer. The blade stopped spinning.

  “Oh? And what is that?” she asked.

  “They ask that you guarantee the safety of their ruling house. They have heard about what happened at Tanela.” Calexis frowned at him and General Nazar cleared his throat uncomfortably.

  The General hoped that Calexis’ displeasure would not extend to him. Tanela had been the first of Calexis’ conquests in the short year she had ruled the Xallan Empire. Her first order, once the previously free city-state had fallen, was the summary execution of the entire royal family. Nazar knew that Calexis still feared anyone who could challenge her authority as Queen, especially those who might be positioned to inspire a revolt against her. At Tanela it had not caused any problems because the Taneli ruling house had been so corrupt, the local populace had considered it justice. They had welcomed their new Queen.

  Quan, however, was a different story altogether. It was ruled by a council made up of the heads of several different families whose lineage extended back even beyond the time of the Mage Wars over a thousand years ago. These royal administrators were well loved by the people of Quan and respected for their fairness, not to mention that each family was numerous in its membership and to kill all of them would be murder on a mass scale. Nazar wondered whether Calexis would consider these things, which he had written into his report a month previous when his forces had conquered the Quan.

  Calexis pursed her lips and spun on her heel, walking briskly away from him. Nazar let out his breath, relaxing a bit now that the young woman’s eyes were no longer on his nakedness. The young Queen walked to the table beside her bed and lifted a sheaf of papers. The General recognized his reports.

  “I read this, General and I have come up with a plan. I would like your opinion and, General, I demand only one thing of you. You will be honest with me, always.” Nazar’s eyes rose to meet hers as she continued. “You have proven yourself to be a capable administrator in the past and I value good advice. I am young, yes, but I am not foolish. I will require your loyal assistance if we are to bring Xalla to her glory.”

  Something about General Nazar inspired her to be direct with him. He was a good Xallan, Calexis judged him. Nazar had been her father’s advisor and had commanded the army flawlessly, executing his king’s orders to the letter. But, unlike the other men Calexis’ father had employed over the years, Nazar had been the only one who he had ever permitted to argue with him. Not publicly, of course, but she had often snuck into a nearby room to listen in on some of their private debates and had always found Nazar's opinions to be insightful, whether she agreed with his views or not. She did not think that she would permit the man the same freedom but his advice would be valuable nonetheless.

  The young, milk-skinned, queen ran her eyes over Nazar’s much more mature but still well-muscled body. Perhaps she would favour him in another way. A mild tremor ran between her legs as she crossed them, suddenly intrigued by the thought of an evening of sport. But first, there was one other item of business.

  “Now tell me about the Darga.”

  *****

  A tall man in a black robe walked silently through the trees. The night was dark and the moisture in the air lent a mist to the forest that all but obscured it. Ahead, the fires of a village
burned brightly, warding off the chill in the air. The black-robe raised his hand and stopped. Behind him, a hundred strangely shaped figures obscured by large hooded cloaks, halted their silent march. One pair of feet continued their silent course until a figure came to stand next to the mage-priest. Under his hood, the mage saw the dark-cloaked bulk come to stand silently beside him and clawed, reptilian feet, nearly thrice the size of his own, settled upon the forest floor.

  The Darga, who answered to the name Gortak, turned to the mage with a low growl as his yellow eyes glowed dimly from beneath his dark hood. He could smell the stink of fear the priest’s soft human flesh gave off, warming his thin nostrils in the cold night air. The fear made Gortak’s dark blood boil with hunger but he felt the mage’s power bind him to obedience. There would be killing this night, but for now the mage was not to be prey to the hundred Darga waiting in the forest.

  With a snort, he moved his attention to the intended target of their attack, one of the many small villages that lay in the midlands between Xalla and the kingdom of Maramyr. The smell of the cookfires below rankled Gortak. The way these humans ruined their meat with fire was an offensive thing to the Darga, who joyed in the warm iron of fresh blood from a still beating heart. He sniffed the air and, through the smoke, he could smell the humans and the many animals they kept in the village below. The Darga would feast this night. Perhaps this alliance with the mage-priests was not without its advantages.

  The cloaked priest drew a sharp breath and, under the cowl of his own dark cloak, he nodded, signaling for the attack to begin. At once, a hundred Darga leapt forward, silent except for the hungry breathing as they sampled the night air for their prey. In the village ahead, a horse neighed and circled the corral in which it’s owner had kept it safe for the night. Instinct gave it no better warning than would the inhabitants of the village have. The black-robed mage walked over to a fallen tree and watched the carnage below. It would soon be over and he, along with the Darga, would again disappear into the darkness of the forest.