by Jordan Baker
“I have three more days of leave during the royal visit,” he told her. “Perhaps, if there is time, I might visit once more before they lock me away in the Academy for another season.” Elaine smiled and Carlis stroked his chin as it seemed was his habit when and idea came upon him.
“Forgive me Elaine for being forward, but perhaps Aaron would make the perfect escort for your niece this evening. He’s at the Academy and, like the young nobles there, required to wear the Academy colors, even when on leave. Even the young nobles at the Academy who are of Maramyr and whose faces we all know, are wearing the Academy colors. Who is to say that Aaron is not a noble from one of the provinces?” Carlis held his breath while Elaine pursed her lips, considering the scheme. She looked at her niece and then gave Aaron a look with an expression on her face that reminded him of a cat with a mouse under its paw.
“One of these days, our beloved Lord Carlis will catch himself in one of his clever schemes. But, I suppose it wouldn’t be entirely inappropriate for my niece to be escorted by a young man from the Academy.”
Carlis exhaled, pleased that Lady Elaine had not chewed off his head at the suggestion. She did squeeze his hand a little too firmly for his comfort and he knew that he might hear about it later, if she was not totally pleased with the outcome of the evening.
“I would be honored to escort your niece to the ball and will make it my duty to see that she is treated honorably by all the young men who might wish a dance with her. I am especially suited to keep an eye on her since dancing is one of the more tragic gaps in my education.” Aaron told her, hoping that attending a ball did not also require one to dance. Elaine laughed.
“I will expect reports on the conduct of every young man who dances with Ehlena,” she said. “And perhaps, if there is time, Ehlena might teach you one of the simpler dances. She is an excellent dancer.”
“If there is time,” Ehlena added with a smile and a small curtsy.
“Good. Then we will make ourselves ready and leave the men to do the same.” Elaine released Carlis’ arm and, on cue, Ehlena stepped lightly to her aunt’s side. She turned and winked at Aaron.
“I will bring my carriage, unless the lady prefers her own,” Carlis offered. Elaine smiled.
“Yours will do,” she said and turned, leading her wayward niece into the building. Carlis chuckled.
“Expertly played my boy,” he said once the two women were out of earshot. “I though she was going to cut out my tongue for putting her on the spot like that. Elaine wants to shop her niece around at the ball. She has decided that it is about time that Ehlena finds herself some suitors.”
“You mentioned that earlier,” Aaron commented, and for some reason the idea bothered him, though he did his best not to show it.
“Yes, I did. And you handled it beautifully. Thank you, Aaron. I don’t know why, but I’d really like for you to do well at Maramyr and you certainly don’t disappoint.”
“Will there be there a lot of dancing?” Aaron had to ask. Carlis laughed.
“Some,” he said. “But most of it is done by the young ladies and the many suitors lurking around the court. Those of us with other interests usually spend our time drinking and talking about things of varying importance.”
“Such as…” Aaron said, knowing what the response would be.
“Politics, money, women.” Carlis laughed and led Aaron out of the garden. “What else is there?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It was late when Aaron returned to his room at the Academy. He found Borrican leaning back in a chair with his feet propped up on the small writing table that came with the room. He held a near-empty bottle loosely in one hand and, in the other, an envelope sealed with dark red wax.
“My, aren’t we the dandy, out all evening!” Borrican smiled as he blinked his reddened eyelids. Aaron wondered how long the Kandaran prince had been sitting there.
“Went to the ball at the palace,” Aaron told him. He had hoped to see Borrican there and had wondered why he did not attend.
“And was the ball to the gentleman’s liking?” his friend asked with a relaxed and bemused smile that suggested he had been out most of the evening himself.
“It was interesting,” Aaron said. “You didn’t go.”
Aaron pulled the two swords from his belt and lay them next to each other on the bed. Carlis had lent him an extra scabbard for the sword he had taken from the theif as bare steel was prohibited at the festivities. The two swords at his belt had made quite the impression on a number of young ladies at the ball, so Carlis had told him. Apparently, many young women were attracted to young men who looked dangerous. Aaron kicked off his boots and, out of curiosity, began unravelling the leather from the hilt of his recently acquired blade.
“No.” Borrican snorted after a moment. “As a representative of Kandara, I am no longer welcome at the palace of Maramyr.”
“What happened?” Aaron asked then caught himself, wondering if it was an appropriate question. Borrican shook his head and took another drink from the bottle.
“That’s just the thing. Nobody knows for sure, but in Maramyr, it seems that Kandara is out and the Xallan’s are in. Calexis is quickly becoming Cerric’s new best friend,” he said, with no small amount of sarcasm in his voice. "I’ll probably have to leave for Kandara soon as it appears I am no longer welcome in this country.” Borrican sighed deeply.
Aaron may have only really read about politics and what little practical understanding he had gleaned from his time in the city and through his tag-alongs with Borrican had given him the impression that relations between the various countries were often precarious, but he was still surprised at how quickly the tides had changed. Borrican rose from his seat.
“On a brighter note, that’s a pretty fancy blade,” he told Aaron who had removed all the binding from Jax’s sword. Aaron turned it over slowly in his hand, surprised himself at the high quality of it. Aaron was taken aback. The sword was so familiar to him.
In fact, the thief’s sword was nearly identical to Aaron’s, save a few details in the grip. The only real difference was that where Aaron’s sword was bejeweled with a large ruby, this one glittered green with a deep colored emerald. Aaron wondered where the thief had gotten the sword.
At first he figured it was probably stolen, but the thief had spoken about the Academy as if he had trained there. Perhaps it truly did belong to him. Aaron wondered who Jax really was and why he carried a sword so much like the one he had inherited from Tarnath. He frowned. The thief was probably locked in a dungeon by now or might even be dead, killed as punishment for his thievery. Aaron had been told by one of the Academy captains that justice was swift in Cerric’s Maramyr and that a man caught in the morning could be convicted by midday and hung before nightfall. One of the other captains had also commented that the same convict could then have his name cleared the following day by a new piece of evidence, but fat lot of good it would do him though after having his neck already stretched on a rope. Aaron frowned. He had not wanted anyone to be killed. He had simply been doing his duty as was expected of any Academy trainee.
“I caught a man stealing from someone in the royal village today.” Aaron explained. “Maramyrian custom says that his sword is now mine, but it wasn't a proper duel, so I think it still belongs to the thief.” Borrican nodded thoughtfully.
“He probably stole it," he said, echoing Aaron's own thoughts. "I'd say it's yours now, and it sure is beautiful. Two swords are better than one! That’s what I always say!” Borican joked with the well-worn expression. Aaron nodded.
“I guess I better wrap it back up again,” Aaron said. Borrican shrugged and handed the envelope in his hand to Aaron.
“Maybe not. This came for you. I’ve seen this kind of envelope before.” Aaron took it and saw the Maramyrian royal seal.
“It’s from the palace," Aaron said, wondering what the palace might want with him. Given his day, thus far, part of him did not want to know. "Here, you r
ead it."
Aaron handed it back to his friend and continued wrapping his newly acquired sword in Academy fashion. Borrican took the letter and, in the voice of a high dramatist playing a king’s courtier, read it aloud.
“Aaron Coromay, Academy Trainee…blah, blah, blah…distinguished...bravery... You have been awarded a commission in the Royal Maramyrian Rangers at the officer’s rank of Captain… Captain Aaron! Congratulations!” he exclaimed, then continued reading. “You will present yourself and this letter to the Senior Captain of the Royal Maramyrian Academy at first light to receive your confirmation and to swear oaths of fealty to Maramyr and her crown. You will then present yourself at the palace armory and await your orders. Now, this is interesting. This letter was written by order of her Royal Highness, Ariana Coromyr, Princess of Maramyr.”
Borrican looked at his friend. Aaron thought perhaps he too should feel more exuberance but the combined effects of a long day, some much wine and the news that Borrican was leaving Maramyr under less than favourable terms dulled his elation. At the same time, he really was excited that he had been promoted and made Captain, then he began to feel a little uncomfortable as Borrican continued to stare at him, scrutinizing him. He stood and stared back at the Kandran prince.
“What?” he asked. Borrican gave him a cockeyed look.
“By order of the Princess, Ariana?" Borrican repeated, handing the letter to Aaron.
"...by order of her Royal highness, Ariana, Princess of Maramyr," Aaron read the last part again.
"Something going on between the two of you?" Borrican asked. Aaron coughed. "Cause I'd fight you for her if that's what it takes. I don't want to fight you, cause you're my friend, but I'll do it." Borrican lurched to his feet and Aaron could now tell that the Kandaran prince was very drunk.
“Don't be ridiculous,” Aaron said. "There is nothing going on between me and the princess. Why would there be? You know as well as I do, there is no way I could be involved with someone of such noble birth. Plus, I don't think she likes me all that much anyway."
Borrican shook his head and laughed, holding out the bottle to his newly promoted friend.
“Relax, Aaron. I'm just joking. I'm not jealous at all," he said, though Aaron wondered exactly what order his thoughts were in, given how addled with drink his mind was at the moment. "On behalf of the Royal Seat of Kandara, congratulations on your commission. As an ally of Kandara and a friend to her prince, you are welcome among us. Now have a drink with me and swear you'll keep my princess safe.” He proffered the bottle again and Aaron took it.
“Thanks, Borrican,” Aaron said and took a drink from the bottle. Borrican snatched it from him and drank the rest.
“Now lets have a drink to top off the evening,” his friend, the Kandaran prince suggested and pulled out his flask, shaking it to see that it was full. It was. He smiled, then sat back down in the chair and promptly passed out.
*****
Aaron had hoped to find Anonymous in his secret library and say goodbye to the mysterious mage but found the place deserted save for the countless volumes sitting silently on their many shelves. He was about to leave when he saw a lone piece of parchment on the large table where Anonymous usually sat and did most of his invisible writing.
Though he still did not understand why he was able to read the words of the cursed mage, Aaron was glad, since the parchment was a note addressed to him. Anonymous himself had left Maramyr for a time. He had written that some things were happening in the Xallan capital that he wished to get a closer look at and would not return for some time. He wished Aaron luck and also congratulations on his promotion. The fact that Anonymous already knew of it was hardly a surprise to Aaron. The mage seemed to know just about everything that went on just about everywhere. He looked around but found that Anonymous had taken his ink and quill with him. Perhaps he would return to Maramyr before the mage returned from Xalla. He turned over the paper so he would know that Aaron had read it and set off for his appointment with the senior captain.
Nathas sat at his desk reading over his own letter from the princess when Aaron entered, first thing the next morning. He bid the young man sit. It was early and he too was feeling the effects of the wine he had enjoyed. He knew that Aaron had attended the palace ball and was likely in the same or worse shape than he, a seasoned veteran, was.
“Aaron. Good to see you. How go your studies?” he asked.
“I’ve just finished the histories of the third Maeran dynasty.” Aaron told him. “I can’t say that they were all that fascinating. At least not until the end when they started having all those pirate troubles. I still haven’t finished the rest.”
“Ah, yes. The pirates. That's where things get really interesting,” Nathas said with a laugh then turned to a more serious tone. “Well I might as well tell you how the story goes. The simple version of the story is that the pirates took over Meer Island and still run it to this day. And that, my boy, is the history of the fourth Maeran dynasty. I’ll bet you no history book could tell you as concisely as that.”
“But isn’t there some Lord Maer-tana or such who rules the island now? I thought the name was a continuation of the line.” Aaron asked.
“You don’t speak any Maeran do you?”
"Some," Aaron told him.
“Well, it’s not the simplest of tongues. ‘Tana’ is a word from Old Maeran. It means ‘killer’. Almost a hundred years ago, a pirate by the name of Faltan allied with some of the other pirate Captains and conquered the island. He and his allies killed most of the ruling family and assumed control of the island. It was a very bloody affair and, to finish the business, he gave himself the title, Maer-tana which means both Maeran-killer and also ocean-killer, from the ancient word Meer which means ocean. Essentially Maer-tana means pirate.
"While a few of the nobles may have escaped to Aghlar, most of those who could reach their ships were killed on the seas by the pirates. It was some dirty business. Things have settled there since then and the current man in charge is supposed to be a more reasonable sort. They don’t have the usual hereditary rulers on Meer. The nobles, all descendents of Faltan and his allies, elect a ruler from amongst themselves. He’s in charge, for better or for worse for ten years, or until his death, whichever comes first. It's an interesting way of running things, don’t you think?”
Aaron nodded in agreement, thinking he would have to learn more about this fourth Maeran dynasty.
“The tutors tell me that you’ve finished all the required studies," Nathas said. Aaron nodded. “And you’ve obviously done well with your weapons training, not that we had much to teach you. Frankly, I was hoping I’d have time to see how many of old Tarnath’s tricks you learned but it seems your stay is going to be even shorter than we thought. You’re being given a job, and quite a good one at that. It says here that you have been requested by the crown princess Ariana herself.” Nathas held up a similar letter to the one Aaron had received. Aaron held out his own copy and slid it across the desk to the Senior Captain.
“I received a copy of the letter last night,” Aaron told him.
“It helps to have friends in high places,” mused Nathas. “I have also recommended that you be assigned to the Rangers.”
“The Rangers?” Aaron had heard about the Maramyrian Rangers but he had not yet met a member of their ranks as they generally kept a low profile.
“That, was my own recommendation to her highness when she came a calling. The Rangers are special members in the Maramyrian Army who report directly to the senior commanders. They tend to work individually or command small units for special assignments. I thought that with your particular talents, you would be an appropriate addition to the Rangers.” Nathas held up his hand and showed Aaron a ring on his smallest finger. The solid gold band was faced with a dark green stone in the shape of a leaf. He slid a piece of soft cloth across the desk to Aaron.
‘You did a good thing defending her that day.” Nathas told him as Aaron unfolded the cl
oth to find an identical ring inside. Aaron picked up the ring in one hand then, standing at attention, he gave his best salute.
“Thank you, Senior Captain.”
“You’re welcome, Captain,” the older man smiled. “I must ask one thing, Aaron and I hope you do not take offence. Do you think the princess might have requested you for any reason beyond gratitude for saving her life? Have you noticed any personal element with regards to your relations with the princess?” Aaron hardly had to guess at what Nathas was more than suggesting. He shrugged and explained about how they had met at Autumnfest and that they had since become friends.
“I hope I haven’t been out of line,” Aaron said. Nathas gave him one further suspicious look.
“Not unless you’ve got any ‘thoughts’ towards the princess. She can do whatever thoughts she wants, but it is your duty to defend her honor at all times, and in every way.” Nathas stressed this last part.
“Absolutely sir,” Aaron assured him. First Ehlena's aunt and now Captain Nathas was warning him about getting involved with these women who, as far as he was concerned, had become his friends. As much as he had learned about history, politics and war, he realized he still had a lot to learn about people and all the unwritten rules of society. After staring at him for a moment as if to discern Aaron's truthfulness, Nathas seemed satisfied and smiled at him.
“Good. Because you just graduated and you’ll be serving her highness as of this moment.” He stood and offered his hand. “You have received your first commission as an officer."
“Thank you, Nathas,” Aaron said. "What is the assignment?"
“You are now the Captain of her royal highness’ personal escort. She will be traveling from the city and has requested that you personally lead the guards. Normally, we senior ‘grunt’ types would have a little celebration involving a lot of ale, to celebrate a promotion like this, but you’re supposed to present yourself to the armory today. I think you’d better get your things ready.” He handed Aaron another letter, this one with his own seal. “Present this at the armory and they will outfit you with your new colors. Enjoy the black and gold uniform.”
