Severance (The Sovereign Book 1)

by Michael Pritsos

  Daemyn was surprised to find two guards posted at the princess’ door. They moved aside without a word as the prince entered and he closed the door behind him with a thump. She was sitting in her chair before the lit fire and was crying silently to herself. He was just about to inquire why the guards were posted outside her door when he realized that she must have ordered their presence to deter Xander from trying to mend the relationship that had fallen apart so suddenly for the young man. The prince felt a fragment of pity for his friend but brushed it aside quickly when he approached his sister.

  “What has happened?” Daemyn asked in a voice just above a whisper. “Why do you weep, dear sister?” Roselyn looked up at him with bloodshot eyes and took his hand in both of hers. She clutched it tight and in between her gasps for breath she searched for the words to say. He reached out and stroked her blonde hair away from her face. “Tell me.”

  “I…” Roselyn began then started to shudder. “I am with child.”

  Xander

  She will not even look my way, Xander thought with his eyes downcast on the plate before him. Sunday had come and the royal family was dining on the platform above scores of the castle’s men and women. The king looked jolly as his queen, Isabelle, fed him a morsel of duck from her plate and the guards at Xander’s table cheered as she smeared his face with the food’s grease. King Philip guffawed and the room seemed to quake with his presence. His brown curls were starting to grey but he looked as vibrant as ever. Like a man who would never know death. Daemyn sat just to the king’s right and at half the girth of the king it was amazing to think that someday he would fill the enormous boots of his father.

  Xander noticed a wrapped package before Daemyn and wondered if that would be presented to the king before the night was done. He shifted his gaze back to Roselyn, looking so beautiful in a gown of mauve that exposed the tops of her creamy shoulders and allowed just a hint of cleavage. She was engaged in conversation with the gentleman to her left, a nobly born young man with tousled long brown hair that nearly touched his shoulders. Xander could not recall his name but remembered having seen his face on multiple occasions.

  “Are you going to touch your food?” Caedmon’s voice brought his attention back to the table.

  “I’m not hungry,” Xander lied. “How much longer do you think we have to stay in here?”

  Caedmon’s plate was already done and put away but he had returned to the table to sit with his companions. Usually the night’s dining would finish once King Philip had decided to take his leave, thanking them all for their company before retiring to his bedchamber with Queen Isabelle following close behind. At that time Daemyn would step down from the dais and go around to the tables individually, stopping at some longer than others, and exchanging tales with the men of his household. Perhaps he will be a good man to fill those boots, Xander thought with a set mouth. He certainly knows how to work his magic with the people.

  “Do you have somewhere to be?” Caedmon asked.

  Xander scratched at the healing scab on his scalp and shook his head. “I would just rather not be here.”

  “They’re serving wine at the window now,” Caedmon announced as much to himself as to Xander. “Perhaps we should get some.”

  “I don’t feel like drinking at the moment,” Xander replied. “I think I shall leave.”

  Caedmon shrugged. “That could be difficult. We usually wait for—”

  “I know,” Xander interrupted. “Think of some excuse for me, will you?”

  Xander stood and took his plate to the open window, handing it to a scullion who would scour it clean for him. He walked from the room with a straight back, hoping that perhaps Roselyn would notice his departure and her heart would go out to him. As he walked the torch-lit hallway to his barracks he heard footsteps behind him and mentally cursed Caedmon for following him out. Just as he turned to confront his friend he saw that it was not Caedmon but Daemyn who had followed him from the dining hall.

  “You should have stayed,” Daemyn said with a strained smile.

  “I’m not feeling myself this evening, Highness,” Xander replied. He noticed that Daemyn carried the package that had been before him all night.

  “Would you like to take a walk?” Daemyn inquired.

  “I suppose some fresh air would be nice,” Xander conceded.

  The pair walked from the keep’s musky hallway out into the evening just as the sun was descending from view. They climbed the stairs in relative silence, Xander keeping his eyes on the princess’ corner tower. Pontos’ keep had five towers in total, one for each of the royal children, another for the king and queen, and two dusty guest towers that would probably never be used in Xander’s lifetime. He was out of breath by the time they reached the top of the stairs and cursed himself. He had been getting lazy with physical activity, the only extracurricular that normally burdened his mind being the princess. Xander glanced in Daemyn’s direction as if he could read his thoughts. He wasn’t even looking his way but catching his breath himself, staring over the wall at the city lights blanketing the northeast.

  Xander looked from the city to the ocean, watching the sun tuck itself away to dye the sky a dismal orange that would only last a few moments before the purples of the night would consume the heavens. It all looked so beautiful from where he was. He glanced from the beauty of the setting sun back to his surroundings. Grey bricks each weighing hundreds of pounds comprised every piece of the hundred foot wall on which they stood. The outer wall of the castle was large enough for two horsemen to ride side by side, with crenellations that rose to five feet at their highest points. Between every third crenellation was a ten-foot-long saker cannon, medium artillery capable of firing five-pound balls distances over a mile in length. The sakers were practically decoration. Although more than capable of doing damage, the lack of polish on the bronze was more than a reminder of the safety and complacency inherent on Pontos.

  “I bring good tidings,” Daemyn announced suddenly.

  Xander’s back straightened almost as if he had forgotten his friend was beside him. He looked to Daemyn and raised his eyebrows. “What would those be, Highness?”

  Without saying a word Daemyn extended the package to his friend. Xander looked perplexed for a moment but gently tore the brown parchment off to find a cloak dyed blood red beneath. It was wool but of good quality, he shook it out and smiled broadly for a moment. The frown that had lingered on his face the past week returned then when he looked at the prince. “I will not be able to wear this often. The color represents something that I am not. Guardsmen wear grey cloaks.”

  “You are not to be in the Household Guard any longer,” Daemyn replied. “You have been promoted, my friend.”

  “Promoted?” Xander was at a loss. “Promoted to what?”

  “You are to be a watchman under the constable stationed on Triton,” Daemyn said.

  “Triton?” Xander repeated. He laughed nervously and searched for any plausible reason to stay. “Even less happens on Triton than Pontos!”

  “Quite the contrary, my friend,” Daemyn reassured him. “I’ll admit the island is small. A little over a dozen square miles. I daresay I’ve walked every inch of it in boredom once or twice. But that doesn’t matter, there are still things to do on a little place too. It’s not just farms and fishermen. There’s a tavern there, and you will have your career to attend to. You will have more responsibilities in your position on Triton, and will report directly to the constable there. He oversees all the security of the town and ensures everything at the Embassy goes in accordance to my father’s best wishes.”

  “How many guards are stationed there?” Xander inquired.

  “Forty guardsmen,” Daemyn answered. “Ten watchmen, including you that is, and the constable oversees everyone. It is a small force, to be sure, but the isle only has around a thousand residents. To be a watchman there is almost a celebrity, of sorts.”

  I will be away from Roselyn though, Xander thought wit
h water in his eyes. He cuffed them away and tried to make them tears of joy. “You honor me, Highness, but is there not someone more suited to the task?”

  “How much more suited do you wish to be?” Daemyn asked. “You are twenty-three years old, Xander, and a better man than most in spite of your upbringing. Many men stay on the Household Guard their whole lives and never rise above it. It is those few given the opportunity to lead that rise. I am giving you an opportunity to make something of yourself.”

  Xander nodded weakly. “I hope this has nothing to do with our friendship, Highness.”

  “It does not,” Daemyn said after a brief hesitation.

  Xander narrowed his amber gaze but forced a smile. “I suppose the cloak is a necessity then.”

  “That it is,” Daemyn replied strongly. “There is something else as well.”

  What else could there possibly be? You have already torn me from the sight of the woman I love, the guardsman thought bitterly. He tried to suppress those feelings and accept the good of the situation. Daemyn had done him a kindness that he might never have accomplished on his own. There was more money to be had as a watchman, even if it was in the small town of an island that hosted both Thalassans and Gaians at certain times of the month.

  The prince pulled a brass key from his pocket and placed it in Xander’s hand. “This is yours as well. There is a home waiting for you on Triton. It is unfurnished, however I figured you would wish to do that yourself.”

  “W-what?” Xander looked at the brass key. “You purchased me a house?”

  “There are no barracks on Triton,” Daemyn explained. He gave his friend a warm smile and placed his hand on Xander’s shoulder. “I want what’s best for you, my friend. Believe me when I say that. Of course the house is not free.”

  “I will pay you back whatever I owe, Highness,” Xander assured the prince. “It may take some time…”

  “It is not a matter of money,” Daemyn replied. “The house is my gift to you. However, I need that strong arm of yours when I am to meet with the Gaians again. In addition to your duties as a watchman, you will also be at my right hand, as you should be, during all my future dealings with their diplomat.”

  “This is all very overwhelming,” Xander said. “Would it not be easier to promote me to a watchman on Pontos?” Those men wore the same red cloaks as those few in the Royal Guard, but they were in charge of four guardsmen and thus did not have so many responsibilities. Indeed it was the watchmen on Pontos who were typically looked upon as successors to the Royal Guard.

  Daemyn sighed. “If we had required a watchman here then it would have been a different story. Triton is where the advancement takes you.”

  Xander thought for a moment. “I do not know what to say.”

  “Then say thank you and be done with it,” Daemyn replied. “You had best pack your belongings, your transport leaves on the morrow at noon.”

  “Tomorrow?” Xander cried. “So soon, Highness?”

  “Yes,” Daemyn answered. He smiled and clapped his friend on the back. “Try to look happy, Xander. One would think you have just been devastated by rising in the ranks.”

  “It’s not that I am not grateful,” Xander explained. “As I said before, it’s just… overwhelming. I had better get going. There are those I wish to say goodbye to before I leave.”

  “I have to leave as well,” Daemyn stated. “I have been instructed to supervise the interactions of my sister and the nobleman Patrick tonight.”

  Twist the knife, why don’t you? Xander thought bitterly. “Will I see you before I depart?”

  “I’m afraid not, my friend,” the prince answered. “My night and day are burdened with the tasks my father has established for me. It seems there is little time for revelry these days. However, we shall meet again soon enough. I shall be on Triton in three weeks’ time for my next meeting with the bitch Gaia has deemed worthy enough to collect taxes.”

  Xander laughed. “Your hatred runs deep for this one.”

  “William at least showed an ounce of respect,” Daemyn explained. “Nicolette seems to think the sun shines out of her rear… and what a rear it is.”

  “Best keep those thoughts in your bedroom where no one can hear them, Highness,” Xander chided with a snigger.

  “Easier said than done, my friend,” Daemyn replied dismissively. He looked over his shoulder as sounds of applause rippled through the hallway from the dining hall. “Now I really must go.”

  “Take care of yourself,” Xander said.

  “That’s your job now,” the prince told the newest watchman of Thalassa, not without a grin. “Remember, the boat leaves at noon. Do not keep the captain waiting.”

  Xander watched his companion retreat back to the noise of the dining hall before turning toward the night. He looked over the grand city of Pontos and realized it was not only Roselyn he would miss, but everything. Pontos was exquisite, with a forest that covered most of the isle’s landscape and densely populated civilizations sprinkled throughout. There was a sense of belonging he had gained in Thalassa’s capital during the past three years. Now he would have to leave it behind along with Roselyn, Daemyn, and Caedmon.

  He sighed as he thought of parting ways with his best friend again. They had grown up together in an orphanage on Nereus. About the time they turned eighteen the military careers they had been assigned as orphans left Xander in Nereus while his comrade left to a more prestigious job in Pontos. Their reunion came two years later when Xander was moved to the capital. The change had come with no pay increase but his experiences in Pontos spoke for themselves. And now the pair would separate again.

  Xander turned and headed back into the castle. He decided first and foremost to gather his belongings. When Caedmon came back to the barracks he would have to break the news to him. How could such good news seem so bad? Xander wondered as he strode into the large room he shared with two-dozen guardsmen. Such is life. Perhaps fate is trying to tell me something. He hardened his heart and looked over the few belongings he possessed. Life would be much different from now on.

  *

  The stairs seemed to stretch impossibly long up to Princess Roselyn’s quarters. Though there were only twenty steps, Xander stood at the foot with anxiety filling his stomach. He pushed down his dark hair so he would not look half a fool in his farewell. Triton’s new watchman took a deep breath and began ascending the spiral staircase, all the while thinking of how to word his goodbyes.

  “Are you lost, soldier?” a gruff voice snapped Xander’s gaze from the steps to the two men posted just outside Roselyn’s door.

  “Uh,” Xander stammered. Think you bloody fool! He screamed internally. “Yes, lost… my apologies.”

  The guard, a grizzled middle-aged man named Bernard, gave Xander a chuckle and then swiveled to his fellow guardsman to continue their previous conversation. Xander returned the laugh nervously and turned on his heel to walk back down the stairs. Noon was coming rapidly and it became apparent that he would not see Roselyn for many months. Maybe that’s for the best, Xander thought with an ache taking the place of his heart.

  Caedmon waited for him in his barracks holding the knapsack of things he had decided to take. It was fairly light for Xander only had two sets of clothes other than what he wore. However, his old grey cloak was folded in there as well as a chipped dagger he had kept by his bedside since he was eighteen. Other than that, the new watchman was wearing the rest of his possessions.

  Xander took the bag from his friend and bent to open the ripped seam of his straw-stuffed mattress. His hand searched desperately through the hay and he began to panic. Caedmon started to laugh. “Looking for this?” he asked with a small leather bag he brought from behind his back.

  Xander snatched the purse from him and opened it to briefly check its contents. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Caedmon. There are just some men in these barracks who I haven’t even learned their names after these years.”

  “Sure,” Caedmo
n replied in jest. “I thought you said you were trying to save money?”

  Xander pulled the laces on the purse shut and shoved it into the knapsack. “Those are my savings.”

  “The weight of that bag felt like a couple months’ pay,” Caedmon argued. “Where were you really going all those nights?”

  Xander threw the sack over his shoulder and cocked his head feigning perplexity. “There are only coppers in there,” he lied.

  Caedmon had narrowed his gaze briefly over the unspent coins but said nothing, following his best friend out of the barracks down to Pontos’ dock. The walk was filled with jokes and Caedmon even told a new riddle he had heard among the guards. “In the morning I protect the animal I belong to, and in the afternoon the animal is taken from me and I am beaten severely. As night closes I teach the unlearned to read. What am I?”

  Xander thought for a moment. “Sheepskin being turned into parchment.”

  “Ah, you’ve heard it before,” Caedmon complained. Xander shook his head and smiled. Caedmon never liked conceding to the notion that his childhood friend may grasp things quicker than he.

  The sun reached zenith right when the two companions arrived at the dock. Brennus irritably paced the length of the deck. He was the captain of the vessel Daemyn had contracted to transport Xander, along with a shipment of salted beef, to Triton. Xander stopped just before the longship and turned to his friend.

  “I suppose this is it,” Xander said.

  Caedmon nodded. “We’ll see one another soon, brother.”

  “I hope,” Xander replied with a shrug.

  “I know,” Caedmon declared. He pulled his friend in for a brief embrace. Xander smacked his comrade on his shoulder before turning and marching up the boarding ramp.