Fallen Prince

by Williams, Tess

  “Amalia, did?...”

  “You should enjoy the party, Ellia,” she broke in. “And don’t stop using the trick Tobias taught you on my account. I’d rather it didn’t go to waste.”

  I tilted my head, my brows dipping.

  “I’ll see you another night,” she said. With that she turned around and walked away, her silky dress flowing behind her.

  #

  Amalia was right about Lucian; he disappeared and didn’t come back until most of the Warriors were gone. The fire was little more than coals. The Yanartian minstrel stood nearby, singing on his own. Minstrel, Estrid, myself, and a few others sat around the coals listening. Lucian sat across from us.

  Estrid had her legs tucked daintily beneath our bench. With her eyes on Lucian, she leaned towards me conspiratorially. “So after the test today, did Lucian say how much longer it would be before you can become a Warrior?”

  Lucian caught us watching him. He smiled congenially, but didn’t say anything. I looked back at Estrid, my mouth tipping dismally. “I haven’t asked. He told me when we first started that it takes months for someone as old and unknowledgeable as me—and that’s in the best of cases. There’s also a set of trials at the end of the training, much harder than what I went through today, so even if I make it past training I won’t be a Warrior.”

  Estrid widened her gaze. “He always has such a sweet way of putting things.”

  I laughed. “It works well for a teacher, though.”

  She shrugged in agreement. Estrid had had personally experience on this account. In the past few days there were many times she had joined in Warrior training with me. Normally, this never would have been allowed, but Estrid had managed it using the same trick that allowed her and Minstrel free passage on Yanartas.

  The first time Lucian had ordered them to speak with the chamber Warriors, she had insinuated that Lucian was requesting permission for them to remain on Yanartas. Likewise, she insinuated to Lucian that the chamber Warriors wanted him to see if she could be considered for training as a Cirali Warrior. I wasn’t sure that he believed her, but then again he didn’t stop her from joining in.

  For my part, I wasn’t about to give either of them away. I liked Minstrel there, and I suspected Estrid had a deep motive for joining the Warriors—though she did well at hiding it.

  “Even so, I can see why he’s not married,” Estrid added.

  I grew a smirk, just as Minstrel erupted with clapping. The Yanartian minstrel had just finished his song. The rest of us clapped, then the minstrel set his instrument down and made to quit for the night.

  “Not yet,” one of the Warriors complained. “It’s not even midnight.”

  “I’m afraid I may have exhausted my usual sequence,” the minstrel defended.

  One of the female Warriors spoke up. “Do you know a song of Shaundakul?” she asked. When he didn’t reply, she shrugged her shoulders. “It would be appropriate wouldn’t it?”

  The chimera lying beside her gave a yawning complaint. She rubbed its head absently.

  The minstrel hesitated, then he stood back up. “Alright, but it’s only a recitation. It’ll be without music.”

  The crowd cheered all the same. I joined them. Yet, before he had even started, I wanted to leave. He recited the words very slowly.

  *

  Walls of silver light and stone,

  Ancient sayers, ancient thrones,

  Stars are here most brightly shown

  *

  Lords of mystery, and of night

  Kings of justice, beasts of flight

  Mounted up on granted heights

  Mounted up by dragon’s flight

  *

  Trees of depth, and width, and soul

  Tall and mighty, rich and old

  Scents of evergreen and cold

  Winds of ice, wings of ice,

  Mounted up on granted heights

  Mounted up by dragon’s flight

  *

  Halls of lore and thrones of glass

  Friend to song, and friend to dance

  Liveliest maidens, rich in virtue

  Warriors humble, ere they knew…

  They’d be mounted up on heights

  Mounted up by dragon’s flight

  Mounted rulers of the night

  Mounted lords of dragon’s flight

  *

  As the minstrel went on to sing more verses, I found I could no longer sit there and keep calm. My mind had filled with memories of home. Every landscape, every height and room that I would never see again. Ever song that I would never dance to. Every person that I would never pass in the timeless halls, or greet, or touch…

  I walked off and away from the platform until the minstrel’s voice was far behind me. I was closer to the sea. There were no lights nearby. The moon showed bright; it absorbed my distress, while the breaking waves drowned out my fears. I told myself to concentrate on the present. In the present I could actually do some good.

  “I’ve never known a visitor to dislike Caleb’s recitations,” said Lucian.

  I started and looked over to see that he was already standing beside me, his eyes on the sea, his strong hands on the rail. I assumed Caleb was the name of the Yanartian minstrel. I should have been more sensitive to the fact that it was rude to leave so. “It wasn’t him,” I said. “The poem was lovely…. I just became overheated by the fire.”

  Lucian smiled, so that he made a sound with the breath of it. “You keep secrets like a true Shaundakulian. But you guard yourself like a Yanartian.”

  “I haven’t kept any secrets,” I argued. But upon realizing that I had lied about my motive for leaving—and that this was what he was referring to—I grew quiet.

  “I know something about secrets,” he said. He tapped his thumbs against the rail. “You probably aren’t aware… but I grew up knowing about my mother and brother. Even my father. The Warriors don’t believe in hiding such things. Amalia was so renowned they probably couldn’t have anyways. I never cared for the loss of a mother that didn’t want me, but as a boy I used to watch the horizon, supposing that my brother was far off doing the same, looking out at the sky, and that he would think of me as I thought of him. It made it easier somehow, being sure that we both felt the same, that we knew the loss of each other. I even imagined at times that he was trapped against his will, and that when he finally got free he would come to Yanartas. He’s the eldest, you know—whatever that matters among twins.” Lucian waved a dismissive hand. I dropped my brows. His grim frown grew even sadder. “But when Amalia came… that was the first time I ever learned that he didn’t know about me. She just… didn’t tell him. He didn’t know at all. All those times I thought he was thinking of me…Well, he wasn’t.”

  I wanted to tell Lucian that he had somehow—missed him even if he hadn’t known what he was missing. But as far as I knew Tobias had never spoken of such a longing.

  “I’m sorry that I asked you not to speak of him,” Lucian said. “I could tell from the way you first looked at me what he must have meant to you…. I can still tell sometimes.” He glanced over at me with a half-smile, and I felt my cheeks get hot.

  “Perhaps one day,” Lucian said, “Not now, but in the future, you could tell me about him. I would like to know the type of life he lived.”

  “Your mother could tell you better than I, Lucian. I knew him only a short while.”

  “But you were there when he died, right? Amongst the Warriors of Cirali it means much to witness how a man dies. His true character is revealed in the face of such trial.”

  “He was brave,” I said automatically.

  Lucian nodded. “I felt that this was so. When you tell me what you know of him, you will tell me the story of his death as well.”

  I bit my lip, glancing down. I felt guilt in my chest, and fear—wouldn’t Lucian blame me if he ever knew.

  Lucian suddenly turned away from the ocean. Resting one arm on the railing, he faced me. “I came here to tell
you that I believe you are the daughter of Savras Solidor. You may know little of it, but trouble is brewing among the other kingdoms. You noticed some of this, while travelling through Karatel?”

  A little taken aback, I thought seriously of my journey through the plains. The town of Cathum, where the Akadian troops had stationed themselves, and even erected banners. And the travelling merchant who had warned me of Akadian soldiers patrolling the roads.

  I nodded.

  Lucian went on. “I fear we are running short on time. Your training is far from complete, but… All the same, I believe you will be able to pass the trials.”

  “The trials… What are you saying?”

  “I’m telling you that I am going to send you to take the first of them tomorrow. It is up to the trainer to decide when their apprentice is ready. After today’s performance, I’m sure that you are closer than ever. More importantly, I want you to be in a position to speak for your people if something happens. You have displayed good ability, but it will be up to you to complete the trials.”

  “You mean if I pass them I will become a Cirali Warrior?” I asked.

  “As long as the first order Warriors agree to it. And… well, we’ll deal with the rest once you return. You are allowed to bring one companion. It cannot be me,” he said before I could ask it. “It cannot be anyone who has gone through the trials. In other words…”

  “None of the Cirali Warriors,” I followed. “Could I take Minstrel or Estrid?”

  He hesitated a moment, his features registering slight surprise, but then he nodded. “I suppose that since you know few other Yanartians, that would be a plausible choice.”

  I took a deep breath, my heart suddenly racing, my thoughts spinning with uncertainties.

  “But Ellia,” Lucian broke in. “You know that this is your one chance. If you fail the trials, you will never be a Warrior.”

  I looked up at Lucian blinking. His eyes were full of reflected moonlight.

  “I can’t promise that you will pass,” he said.

  As I listened to the waves crash, and thought of both Tobias standing before the fields of radiance and of the minstrel’s song of Shaundakul. I shook my head.

  “I have to.”

  ~ ~ ~

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CYRIC:

  *

  I walked along the road leading away from the new recruit section of the training ground. I’d just finished my lessons. It was late afternoon; the sun was up but not so scorching. I absently rubbed my knuckles—where they were getting sore from overuse. Luckily I’d been promised my own assistant starting tomorrow. I needed one to help with all the recruits I was being assigned.

  Turned out that my teaching style was lot more effective that the other trainers’. I didn’t care, just as long as it made Lox happy. I didn’t mind that the success got me preferential treatment so much either.

  A soldier ran up beside me. I didn’t pay attention to him at first, but when he stayed there after I’d made a few turns, I looked over.

  My brows dropped immediately. Even with his head downcast and his black hair shaved, I recognized the recruit as Slark. My old… not friend from Uldin Keep. The last time I’d seen him had been in the Akadian square with all the other Shaundakulians—when he’d refused to even look at me. He now wore the attire of a foreign recruit. In other words, he wasn’t even a real soldier yet.

  When he caught me looking at him, he finally spoke.

  “Hello, Dracla,” he said. “I mean… Cyric. Sergeant Cyric.”

  I didn’t stop walking. I felt no strong desire to correct his mistake in calling me a sergeant—even if it would have been fun to say he was wrong. I was distracted by the way his eyes were darting around, and his obviously submissive behavior.

  “Do you… know who I am?” he asked.

  I spared him a glance. “Of course. You look terrible.”

  He scoffed. “Yeah, I… But, hey you’re a soldier, hunh? You’re really in the army?.... I saw you, teaching the hand-to-hand combat thing. Everyone thinks you’re really good. They say you’re the best.”

  I was still waiting for the jokes about my father to start; this was really weird. “Yeah, well, they obviously haven’t met a guy named Seraphastus…”

  “He’s better than you?” Slark asked.

  “Only because he’s about two times taller.”

  Slark laughed.

  I felt my shoulders—which had gone tight—relax a little.

  “So… I heard you’re going to take on an assistant to help you teach. I was wondering, if maybe you’d consider me. I’m a good fighter, and I can throw a fierce punch.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I said. “Personal experience, remember?”

  Slark’s features went dark. He looked down. I kept my hands in my pockets as we walked.

  “You know I only ever did that stuff because I was jealous, Dracla,” he mumbled. “You were better at everything. And… even the princess was crazy about you. I wasn’t the only one either. All the soldiers were jealous of you.”

  This finally made me slow my pace. I considered Slark carefully, trying to decide if he was telling the truth or if he was just trying to get a job.

  A servant approached us before I could say anything. I recognized him as Thane, one of Lox’s minions.

  “Master Cyric,” he greeted, bowing. “The commander would like to see you in the war-room. He’s asked that you make all haste.”

  This wasn’t big news to me, but Slark’s expression grew as awed as ever. I didn’t mind it so much. “Be on the platform by noon tomorrow. We’ll see about it then,” I told him.

  Slark grew a smile, and then he put his fist to his chest and bowed to me. It wasn’t something that they did in Akadia, but once again, I didn’t mind it so much.

  I looked back at Thane and nodded. He led me to the war-room.

  #

  “There you are, Cyric,” Lox said, the moment I entered the room. “Thane, you may leave us,” he added hurriedly, waving a hand at my escort. Thane frowned, but disappeared with a bow. He shut the door firmly behind him—slammed was another word for it. I smirked a little.

  This was the first time I’d ever been in the war-room during the day and the difference was remarkable. Behind the giant Shaundakulian tapestry there was a floor to ceiling glass window. It gave off a view the city and from it, without being able to see directly down, I realized that this must be the building at the top of the red-rock wall of the training district. The setting sun had an easy time shining through the tapestry. It filled the war-room with rich gold light.

  As I approached Lox, who I’d thought was the only person in the room, I noticed Veera sitting in a chair beside the table. She had her legs crossed on the top of it. When she saw me, she looked up from her nails and waved a little, but her expression was taunting.

  I tossed a scrap piece of paper from the table at her. She dodged it then stuck her tongue out at me.

  “A fine time to be playing, you two,” Lox interrupted.

  Veera instantly lost her smile. I reconsidered him, digging through papers on the table. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  He frowned. “What isn’t wrong? I’m afraid the worst has happened… yet again.”

  I felt a tremor in my chest. His words automatically made me think of only one man, and it wasn’t a circumstance I liked to recall.

  “I’ve had my suspicions for a while,” he went on. “But now I’ve received absolute reports that some Akadian lieutenants, and even a commander is betraying Akadia.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “How?”

  Lox sighed heavily. Then he looked up from his papers. “They’re conspiring with Karatel to destroy us. My men have witnessed them meeting across the plains. They’ve even begun to syphon their troops into Katellian territory.”

  My brow was dark. I glanced at Veera, who now wore the most severe expression. “At the banquet…,” I followed, “Scanth said that one of the commanders had taken
his battalion to patrol near Karatel. Is he…?”

  “The commander I suspect has betrayed us, yes.”

  “Commander Tarful,” I checked. He was going to be my commander eventually. Technically I was already done with training. I hadn’t been instated into the mobile forces yet because of my teaching duties.

  Lox nodded. “I now realize that his patrol through Karatel was probably an exercise for his complete desertion of Akadia.”

  “But he can’t take his entire battalion with him,” I said. “I mean… they wouldn’t go.”

  Lox tilted his head skeptically. “When a commander gives an order, subordinates are taught to obey it. Oftentimes they don’t know any better. Sometimes they are loyal to their personal commander above their country.”

  “You’re saying they would just turn on Akadia?” I asked.

  “It’s a possibility,” Lox said. “If the higher-ranking officers, such as lieutenants or captains, decide to overthrow them it could perhaps at least divide the soldiers. But if you remember in Akadia captains are isolated from the hierarchy and seldom go to war. I fear Tarful’s lieutenants may be the corrupted ones.”

  “But…Wait,” I said. “Scanth is one of Tarful’s lieutenants.”

  Lox looked at me with uneasy eyes.

  Scanth was one of Lox’s friends; I could hardly believe it. I reached for the papers in front of Lox.

  “There’s no proof that Scanth has betrayed us,” Lox said, stopping me. “He’s the only lieutenant my informants haven’t caught in the act, but he has left Akadia many times recently… I can’t be sure of anything.”

  I moved my hand off the table, then I threw it out, my tone heated when I spoke. “Forget Scanth. You should bring the evidence you have to the council now—before Tarful actually goes through with this. I mean, if they arrest him, it’s over right? His battalion isn’t going to leave Akadia on their own.” My voice grew more uncertain as I spoke. I suddenly realized it was Lox I was talking to—he knew what to do better than me.