“We all have feet of clay,” Aran commented wryly; and then he paused after a sudden thought. “Archmage…did you ever have curious waking dreams of your father Warleader Andur?”
Maran shook his head, then glanced up his kinsman, “He visited you did he?”
Aran nodded, “Several times. In fact twice when I was awake, and during one of those times there was a possession and he and I were briefly one.”
“At the node,” said Maran, pondering this new information.
“Aye,” replied Aran, “Surprisingly we seemed to get on, your father and I.”
Maran barked a short, sharp laugh, “I’m not surprised; you two are very alike, especially since you both share the Warriormage Ability.” He shook his head at that, “We may be both mages Arantur, but there are leagues of difference in how you think and how I see the world.” Maran pulled a face as he recalled ancient memories, “I think that’s why father and I always argued…our natures were fundamentally so different.”
“But there are similarities,” Aran replied swiftly, “Shared traits throughout the Andurian line.” It was his turn to frown, “I’ve seen it in myself, you, Andur, and even in the shade of Sarana when she came to me…”
“And in the Warleader,” murmured Maran almost to himself.
Aran looked up and met his kinsman’s eye, “Aye…” he replied in a low, cold voice, “In her as well.” He sighed, “It was not a good thing to know that we all came from the same stock. Sometimes it seems to me that the stock is fatally flawed and that it would have been better for the province if they had chosen another line to rule.”
Maran shook his head, “I disagree. Andur came to his throne because he was the one man in the whole of the province who had enough energy, will and sheer determination to overthrow the Serat. His pivotal role in the Great Uprising was publicly recognised when he was named High King.” The Archmage stared at Aran, “The people wanted a strong, determined and charismatic king, and Warleader Andur fitted the bill perfectly. As you said before Arantur, we all have feet of clay. I just think that the people chose to overlook Andur’s flaws in favour of his good points which were considerable.”
“So you think this same argument applies to me?” asked Aran softly.
Maran nodded, “I do. To tell you the truth Arantur, I was never much of a king. In fact if Andur had conceived a second child upon Baranta then I would have gladly given up the throne in favour of going to Glaive much earlier.” The Archmage shook his head wryly, “I remember what you said to me after that first terrible battle.” His mouth twisted, “We were both none of us sane and black words had been spoken freely and with much anger.”
Aran nodded his face wooden.
“Now you will find this hard to accept,” Maran said softly, “But you were right in what you said. I was a shadow king…I gave up the province and my duty and care of it for the peace and quiet of my books.” He laughed bitterly, “I have lived with the knowledge of that failing for more human lifetimes than you’d care to count.” The Archmage shook his head, “I just wasn’t ready to hear it from you…”
“So is this an apology?” asked Aran tightly.
Maran nodded, “In a way, yes. Given my age and my years of experience as king and Archmage I should have acted very differently during that battle and afterwards…” his voice trailed off. Aran looked across and saw Maran’s shoulder’s straighten, “What I am trying to say to you Arantur, is that I am immensely proud of what you have done, how you have carried yourself, and the way you respond to people and situations. You were expected to be a soldier king with little or no experience, and almost no preparation. For that, we of Glaive are entirely at fault.” The Archmage’s head turned and he stared directly at his young kinsman, “Andur was a child of war, you are too in a way…but I know that you are going to be a much better king than Andur ever was.”
Aran frowned at this sudden revelation, “In what way shall I be better?” he questioned.
Maran shrugged, “I don’t honestly know…I just do.”
Aran fell silent as he felt more of the deep-seated pain slowly ebb away as he digested the Archmage’s words.
“I am sorry too,” Aran said quietly, “I must have been awful to be around.”
Maran suddenly grinned, “No worse than any other lad your age, given the circumstances.” He laughed, “You know I had terrible trouble with my own son Trenor…only Alcica knew the way to talk to him without putting him offside.”
“Sounds like it is a common failing of the Andurian line,” replied Aran dryly and without malice.
Suddenly, their conversation was cut off by a sudden commotion at the head of the company. Horns had been taken off belts and from saddlebags, and the small brass instruments were being enthusiastically blown. Then quietly, and far off in the distance, answering notes could at last be heard above the constant screaming of the gulls.
“My lord,” called out Captain Taran happily, “Andur’s Keep is sighted and lies straight ahead.”
With his heart swelling inside his breast at the news, Aran spurred his tired horse forward to catch up with Alissa, and the others who were all urging on their weary horses at the long wished for sight of hearth and home. With the carts clattering and creaking behind, the Andurian Guard and their companions took the last half league at a hard canter. With the Andurian banner snapping and pulling on the light pole Darven held, with horns constantly echoing to and from the keep, the company neared the ancestral seat of the Andurian line.
Aran looked up and saw the grey towers. He saw the clustering figures on the wall-rampart, and felt a great peace steal about his soul. Suddenly it did not matter that he had a lifetime of work ahead of him. All his problems and griefs abruptly became less important at the sight of those tall grey walls. In the end the only thing that really mattered was that he and his friends were at last home.
“Aran,” Alissa called out cheerfully, “Race you to the front gate!”
Aran laughed aloud at her youthful impetuousness, and then he had no time for a seemly reply, for she was off with a clatter of steel-shod horseshoes on stone. Aran shook his head, and with a grin spurred his gelding on for the last gallop home.
*
Chapter 12—Epilogue
“So what happens now?” asked Alissa as she gently curved her hand against her swollen belly, and leaned against the warmth of the stone battlements.
“Now?” with an effort of will Aran left his silent contemplation of the sea and sky, and turned to regard the amused green eyes of his wife and queen.
“They’ll be back you know,” she said simply.
Aran nodded, “Te-Gormeth seems to think that it will take generations for the cycle to turn again. Next time we shall be ready.”
“Next time?” she queried amused, “I thought you were going to make Te-Gormeth your official ambassador to the Thakurian government. Isn’t it a waste of time being diplomatic if there’s going to be a war in another hundred years or so?”
“Perhaps,” Aran admitted smiling, “However if we can tie them up in treaties and trade agreements then perhaps the next war won’t happen.”
Alissa shook her head, “There’ll be a war. It’s in their nature.”
“Then diplomacy will be a waste,” agreed Aran, “Still…one has to try.”
His gaze slewed across the ocean, its blue almost matching the gentle late spring skies, “I’ve made up my mind about the Warriormages,” he said at last, “There’ll be a college.”
“Good,” breathed Alissa, “I was hoping you’d agree to it. Up to now we’ve had almost a dozen arrive from the Legions, and father and I were wondering what you were going to do with them.”
Aran turned, and leant his back against the Keep’s stout crenellations, as he again held up his hand to inspect the form of the oak marriage leaf tattooed upon his skin.
“They’ll be our strength against the next Serat cycle,” he said at last. “Next time there is a war it will be on our
terms, and without any supernatural influence…I’m making certain of that.”
“So where are you planning on building the college?” she asked sidling up to him.
Aran smiled and pulled her to him, “Why here of course, at the Keep.”
One eyebrow was delicately raised, “I doubt that the mages will be happy. Since Maran resigned, and went into seclusion the mages have been almost impossible to deal with.”
Aran grinned at Alissa’s sour words, “They’ll be better once they have elected a new Archmage.”
He shook his head in bemusement, “I still regret that Drayden refused their offer, after all he is the best amongst them.”
Alissa gravely nodded, “I think he too much likes his freedom. You remember how it took him weeks to settle in here after bringing the horses back. Having Theaua pregnant has at least kept him in one place. Mind you he’s been off to the escarpment every other day doing checks on the location for the new road,” she added wryly.
“Let him be,” smiled Aran at his wife, “He is happy…and so is Theaua. Have you noticed her Alissa, she is positively radiant.”
Alissa’s green eyes sparkled, “As are both Hela and I. Genn keeps telling us that it is something to do with being pregnant, but I’d like to think it is because we are so happy.”
Aran laughed at that, “Darven’s got his work cut out for himself as a new father. I never realised that babies could be so much work.”
“Triplets too,” mused Alissa to herself, “I am so grateful that Genn was here to deliver them for I was certain we were going to lose both Kiaia and the smallest babe.”
“Three boys will keep Darven busy for years to come,” agreed Aran, “Besides I think Darven’s already half convinced Kiaia that they are going to be guardsmen like their father.”
“So what are you going to do about the mages?” asked Alissa. “Or are you going to wait until they elect a new Archmage?”
Aran shook his head, “The way they keep arguing about the succession we could be waiting a lifetime for their decision,” he said dryly. “No Alissa, the mages have absolutely no say in what I do with the Warriormages. At least they should be thankful that I’m not planning on rebuilding on the ancient ruins of Rapier.” He laughed wryly, “They seem very possessive of that hunk of volcanic rock of theirs, and would be vastly put out if I refounded the Warriormage College at Rapier.”
“Whatever will Hela do?” mused Alissa, cuddling close to Aran’s warmth. “She’s torn between having her baby at Glaive with all the Weathermages looking on, or here at the Keep in Bennek’s loving arms.”
“No contest,” chuckled Aran, “We’ll organise a permanent chamber for her immediately.”
“And Trenny too?” asked Alissa wryly, “You know that she is his apprentice, and where one goes the other must also follow.”
Aran sagged in mock despair, “Damn…am I always fated to have mages around me?”
Alissa ticked off her fingers, “Well Genn wants to stay on…especially with all the babies due soon; and with Drayden busy for months with his supervision of the rebuilding of the plateau road, Theaua has decided to set up house in the top room of the north-east tower.”
Aran half turned so he could again gaze out at the restless sea, his eye never tiring of the white caps and the purplish hue of the distant mainland. Immediately the constant wind played havoc with his neatly combed beard, and braided hair, and tugged and pulled at the heavy woollen weave of his tunic.
Alissa turned too, to stare at the heaving sea. Finally tiring of the view she turned instead to gaze at the more attractive features of her lean and sun-bronzed husband.
“So what is this great secret that you and Cody have cooked up between yourselves?” she asked wryly.
Aran chuckled, “It’s no great secret…but you ought to know.”
Alissa’s eyebrows arched up yet again, “Know what?” she asked archly.
“That I’ve asked Cody to establish a Metalmageing college here at the Keep,” Aran replied blithely.
“What,” Alissa was incredulous. “Did he agree?”
Aran nodded his face wry as he remembered the endless discussions between himself and his old master. “In Andur’s name Alissa, it took me all these months to persuade him,” Aran confided to her. “It’s taken him this long to admit to himself that he is a latent Metalmage…despite Drayden’s constant assurances.”
Alissa chewed her bottom lip in vexation, “You’re making Andur’s Keep into another Rapier! The mages will be furious.”
Aran frowned, “Drayden’s all for it, and I have Taran’s go-ahead!” he reassured her. “Alissa, the Metalmages and Warriormages must learn and work together. In the future I might rebuild a new Rapier for a new generation of mages elsewhere on the plateau, but for the immediate future I’d rather it was located here.”
After a moment or two of thought, Alissa nodded, as she finally understood the sense in her husband’s words.
“So how many latent Metalmages have you found?” she asked suddenly.
“None…yet…except for myself and Cody,” replied Aran with a grin, “I’m sending him out to search for more. Genn’s promised to go with Cody to help him Scan for possible Ability once he’s done delivering babies here.”
Alissa shrugged, “I suppose you have to be a Metalmage to know one…I mean he did find and train you.”
Aran grinned, “That’s what I’m counting on.”
Alissa leant back against the comforting familiarity of the keep walls and yawned, “All I know is that these two have been giving me endless grief.”
Aran laughed and placed a gentle hand on Alissa’s swollen belly, “Are you thinking that they’ll kick their way out?”
Alissa smiled tiredly, “Perhaps they will. I didn’t get a scrap of sleep last night.”
Aran grinned, “I beg to differ my love, because I was woken by your snoring at least three times during the night.” He sighed dramatically, “How was I to know that once we were married you’d start to snore.”
Alissa punched Aran playfully on the arm for that last remark, but after appeasing her honour she turned back to him with a smile.
“It’s a mighty strange world we’re bringing our children into my love,” she remarked.
Aran smiled bemusedly, “Strange, in what way?”
Alissa shrugged, “Oh, you know…all the old Abilities re-emerging, the reinstatement of the Andurian line, the nodes…”
Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of the now familiar figures of the whales surfacing in the deep waters off the Keep.
“They’re back,” she whispered, whilst staring at the heavy grey forms.
“Aye…” Aran was unsurprised, “They must sense that Sarana will soon be returning.”
Alissa touched her belly at his words, and her eyes softened as she thought of the impending birth of the twins.
Aran gazed at the whales, and thought of the last year and shook his head at the changes that had occurred in his life. Finally he turned away from the sea, and with gentle eyes regarded the rapt expression on Alissa’s face as she gazed at the huge mammals playing below them.
“Nothing is strange, if it’s familiar,” he replied gently. “We were both born to a different world, and have had to come to terms with this one.” Aran smiled, “In some ways we have been the creators of this new world of ours. I mean I did not have to be king if I didn’t want to. It’s taken me months of soul searching, but I have finally understood that truth now.” he added wryly. Then he strove to explain, “Alissa, I believe that the goddess has been twitching our lifepaths for some months now. We may as well just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
“Some ride,” Alissa commented dryly, “I wonder what she’s got planned for us next?”
“A quiet time I hope,” replied Aran quickly, “I don’t want to travel anywhere for another six months at least.”
Alissa laughed, “You do know you’re going to have to make time to visit the southe
rn cities. We have been lax in our duties there.”
“Don’t remind me,” groaned Aran, “My blisters have only just healed from the journey through Thakur.”
For a few moments they stood watching as the setting sun seemingly brushed the surface of the darkening sea, then quietly Aran turned back to Alissa.
“So do you regret anything we’ve seen or done?” Aran asked softly, as he took his wife back into the sheltering warmth of his arms. “Would you change anything, or exchange any of our experiences for a quiet, uneventful life in which none of this had ever happened?”
Alissa turned, and placing her smooth cheek against his bearded one sighed happily.
“Not for the world my love, not for the entire world…”
**
The End
*
Other fiction titles by Rosemary Fryth
Heroic Epic Fantasy Trilogy ‘RIOTHAMUS’:
Book One ‘Arantur’
Book Two ‘The High King’
Book Three ‘Warriormage’
*
Contemporary Dark Fantasy Trilogy ‘THE DARKENING’:
Book One ‘Dark Confluence’
Book Two ‘Dark Destination’
(Forthcoming - Book Three ‘Dark Destiny’)
Other titles by Rosemary Fryth:
‘Elemental’ (A book of poems)
http://www.rosemaryfryth.com/
Warriormage: Book Three of the 'Riothamus' trilogy Page 33
