by Brian Fuller
“First Mother, I may not know her intimately as you do, but I have witnessed her care for those most wouldn’t waste a glance upon. She has the qualities I always thought she would. What is honorable must be defended, regardless of where it is found. Baseness must be despised—and fought—wherever it is found, even if in the Blessed One.”
“Do you condemn me, indeed, condemn all of us who work to protect the Chalaine, for our failure?”
The question was asked with such earnestness that Gen knew his answer was important to her. “I am in no position to judge and have no right to condemn anyone. . .”
The first Mother laughed sardonically. “Forgive me, Gen, but you must see that it is ridiculous for you to say so! You judged the most powerful man alive this evening, found him wanting, and shamed him in front of the better part of the ruling class from two nations!” Her face turned serious and her voice filled with intensity. “From the moment you issued your challenge, I have been burned with a guilt and self-loathing you cannot understand. I love her more than anyone! I am her mother! And a stranger from another land has to do what I should have done because I was too weak to do it! I could have raised the challenge. Jaron would have supported me just as he supported you, and he would have fought for her! But I did nothing! Tonight, you proved yourself my better, and in sitting above me, you have the position and the right to judge!”
“Please, your Grace,” Gen soothed, “you make too much of what I have done. There is only one thing that matters and one thing on which you and I should fix our hopes: that after tonight there is no one that truly loves the Chalaine or who cherishes honor that will allow the shame that almost came upon your House to ever happen again. I know you will not. Do I miss my mark?”
“You do not,” the First Mother replied resolutely. She stared at Gen for several moments in silence, and Gen looked her in the eye, not sure what to expect. There was a fire and resolve in her countenance, and Gen knew he had acquired an ally.
“Such wisdom and skill for one so young,” she said, finally. “I would keep you around as my own Protector just for the conversation if I didn’t have other plans for you.”
“No doubt the Blessed One would take great offense if you named me your Protector.”
The First Mother grinned. “And no doubt he will take even greater offense when I name you the Chalaine’s Protector, replacing Dason.”
Gen’s mind reeled. Great offense indeed!
“Ahh!” the First Mother said mirthfully. “I believe I have figured out how to read one of your emotions. Whereas most men raise their eyebrows or exclaim or stammer when surprised, you simply remain silent for a short period of time.”
“What will become of Dason?” Gen inquired, noting the First Mother’s observation.
“After tonight Dason will no longer have the honor of the Protectorship, though he will continue to serve with the Dark Guard. While it would mean my death were Chertanne to find out, I want the men who guard my daughter to hold her in higher honor than Him, and I know you to be one of them, as Jaron is now.
“The Chalaine will not like losing Dason, for he is a court-bred man who is very gregarious and entertaining, but it must be done. I can see that Dason has passion for her, and, while the brand would keep him from ever hurting her, it would still be dangerous if he were to win her heart, for I can see she is fond of him, as well. I have purposefully tempted you this night in subtle ways that would have at least interested most men, and you have not faltered. I think you will not let your passions get the better of you under any circumstance.”
Gen realized he was being silent and spoke up quickly. “It would be my honor to serve her, but is it not a risk? You said I am in danger, and from the looks directed at me this evening, I believe you. The Chalaine may be placed in danger if I am near her.”
“That is true, but I also want to protect you. There is no place on Ki’Hal safer than this shard and the Chambers of the Chalaine. I will make you her night Protector. That way, Jaron will most likely accompany her when she is called to perform duties outside the Chambers. I know there are risks. You have put yourself between the Ha’Ulrich and his bride, but if any man in this kingdom can protect my daughter, it is the man who chopped down Cormith in my Hall this night. If you are the target of Chertanne’s ire, then your plight will be the plight of many ere long.”
Though Gen didn’t show it, a brief surge of excitement at his good fortune surged through him.
The First Mother continued. “I trust that you will disregard the idiotic Aughmerian notion that the Chalaine is now in your possession?”
“Of course I will. It is ridiculous.”
“Good, though I will not rule out using it to our advantage if need be. There is one thing, however, that I hope you are intelligent enough to realize,” the First Mother continued. “Twice I have seen you use the arrogance and ignorance of your opponent to defeat him. You must know that you will no longer have this advantage. As we speak, tales of your deeds and your description are being carried from Mikmir and throughout Rhugoth. From Rhugoth it will go to all nations. In two days time you have become a legend in your own right, and by the time the tales reach Aughmere and your homeland, you will be ten feet tall and breathing fire. The next opponent you face will know to fear and respect you, and as your own fame grows, you too will have to fight against arrogance.”
“I thank you for your wisdom, your Grace. Being in the presence of the Chalaine will no doubt keep me humble.”
“Perhaps, Gen,” the First Mother answered, “but do not forget that under that veil is a young woman who, for all her beauty and importance, is flawed and now fearful. Her future marriage to the Blessed One brings her no joy as it once did, and, as much as you need protect her from evils of flesh and blood, you must also inspire in her the strength to face the unwanted in the name of duty. Will you swear to me, as one who honors her as I do, that you will do this?”
“I swear it. I will be the Chalaine’s Protector, if she will have me.” It was more than Gen could have hoped for when he first set foot, dirty and ragged, on the tournament field.
The First Mother smiled. “She has no choice. By tradition, the First Mother chooses who will be her daughter’s closest guards. You must pass through another ceremony and receive an additional branding. We will take care of it quietly tomorrow morning so that you may begin your duties in the evening. Tonight you will sleep in spare quarters next to Cadaen’s. Tomorrow you will have your own quarters in the Chamber of the Chalaine.”
“I thank you, First Mother.”
“You are most deservedly welcome. And call me Mirelle when we are outside of court. It is the name I took after birthing the Chalaine, for only one may have the title.”
The First Mother shifted and reclined upon her side on the rug, resting her head upon her hand and gazing into the fire. A strand of blonde hair fell over her now pensive face, and Gen was surprised at the sudden shift in mood. It was as if by disclosing her name to him, she suddenly changed from the First Mother to a longtime friend.
“You know, Gen,” she said thoughtfully, “it is somewhat ironic that we come to this position tonight. Do you even know why Shadan Khairn attacked your homeland?”
“I do not. I have heard rumors that King Filingrail broke the Fidelium. I’ve been meaning to ask Gerand Kildan more closely about it.”
“He did break the Fidelium. Let me enlighten you so that, perhaps, you can take greater satisfaction in your actions this evening. Last summer, the leaders of the three nations met together in Aughmere for their first glimpse of the Blessed One and to arrange for the eventual transfer of power into his hands after his marriage to my daughter. We arrived expecting Chertanne to be well bred, intelligent, and the very definition of noble, even if after an Aughmerian fashion. At the very least, as the son of Torbrand Khairn, we thought he would be a fine swordsman.
“Imagine our horror when a pudgy, spoiled brat made his appearance and treated us worse than his hounds. At first we t
hought it a joke, but with some subtle investigation we learned that Chertanne’s caretakers had pampered him and deferred to him his entire life. His father had not even been permitted any part in raising him—though that isn’t necessarily undesirable either.
“You must understand, however, that while it frightened me to think Chertanne should ever hold the power that he will in a short time, my first thoughts were for my Chalaine, the one who would be forced to marry him. While all young ladies dream of marrying someone powerful, noble, and brave, the Chalaines have long thought that they were guaranteed it by prophetic dictum. Since first meeting my future son-in-law, I felt sick in my heart.
“As we stayed in Aughmere, we learned that Chertanne was lecherous, and the primary victim of his lechery, I am sorry to say, was your kingdom. Your young King Omric Filingrail brought along his lovely wife, Kerenne, to meet the Blessed One. Chertanne’s lust for her was immediately obvious. While Omric is not a strong man or a gifted leader, he loves his Kerenne dearly, and when Chertanne made a play for his wife, he stormed out of the country, vowing he would never turn his kingdom over to Chertanne. The rest you may guess. Torbrand, as we speak, is taking Tolnor by force, something he revels in.”
“I know it well,” Gen said, a flood of unwanted memories dampening his mood.
“I am sorry to remind you of it,” Mirelle continued, “but it seems more than just coincidence to me that you were driven out of your land by a war started over the honor of a woman, and from there you come and save the honor of another from the very person who started the war in the first place. Though you may not see it, you could consider your victory tonight a small one for your homeland, though I doubt such a thought will dull the pain of your losses.”
“No, it wouldn’t. What I did tonight, I did for the Chalaine alone. What I have lost I can never truly avenge, though this service has given me hope that I can do some good with my life, which is no small comfort. Again, I thank you for it.”
The First Mother smiled warmly at him, and again Gen fought away the inevitable attraction. She pulled an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “If you ever need an ear, Gen, your voice will always be a welcome one to me. I owe you a meal, and I intend to keep my promise of an invitation.”
A thought sprang to Gen’s mind. “You never told her about Chertanne’s character after you returned, did you?”
“You are perceptive,” the First Mother said. “How did you know?”
“The way she acted at the pier.”
“I am surprised you could deduce that from such a short encounter. I did not tell her. I wanted to allow the Chalaine as much happiness as I could before Chertanne tore her hopes apart. I know you will have little opportunity, but if you can, get to know my daughter. The next few weeks will be difficult for her despite—and partly because of—your help tonight, and she could use your strength.”
“It will be my pleasure to know you both.”
“And we you. Now, I think you should get some rest. I have no doubt Cadaen is more than a little worried at the length of our conversation and will barge through the door any second.”
The First Mother rose and Gen followed suit. He retrieved his sword from the mantle, feeling the warm hilt before buckling it on. Mirelle drew near and embraced him.
“Thank you, Gen,” she said, kissing his cheek, “for everything.”
Gen inclined his head to the First Mother. Leading him to the door, she said, “We must teach you to smile or I fear you will drive my daughter mad! Oh yes, and don’t expect to be a commoner or a citizen of Tolnor much longer. Cadaen!” The door opened. Cadaen raised his eyebrows upon seeing the First Mother’s informal attire.
“Open the spare quarters for him, Cadaen. And get that stupid look off your face. We just had a nice little talk.”
Chapter 20 - Change of the Guard
The Chalaine fumed. “I cannot believe you have done it, mother! What will Chertanne think? He will think we hate him!”
Her fervent protest did not change Mirelle’s determined face. The Walls showed sunrise over the Kingsblood Lake the morning after Gen’s defense of the Chalaine’s honor. Her mother knocked on the door before dawn and ordered Eldwena to leave before the handmaiden could finish brushing the Chalaine’s hair. Mirelle resumed the task herself, and the Chalaine was speechless with surprise at the announcement of Gen’s elevation to the Protectorship and said nothing until her mother put the comb down on the vanity. “And Dason will think we despise him!”
“My daughter,” Mirelle said firmly, “I desire one thing above all others—to keep you safe. I interviewed Gen last night. This morning I spoke with Harrick and Captain Tolbrook. They agree that Gen is the best swordsman standing on Rhugothian soil. But more compelling than that is something Ethris told me the day of the Trials. He said that Gen feels a powerful devotion and loyalty to you, Chalaine, as he proved beyond any doubt last night. So what Chertanne or what Dason thinks be damned. If I know Dason, he realized he committed an error when he deferred to Chertanne and will expect dismissal from the Protectorship. As for Chertanne, I find it hard to believe he will find a way to behave less civilly to you, regardless of what he may think we feel for him.”
“I must marry him, Mother,” the Chalaine said. “He will think you his enemy if you award Gen the Protectorship for defying him!”
“So you think Gen should have withheld his challenge, then?”
“No, of course not,” the Chalaine replied, tone softening with the remembrance of the feelings her deliverance had awakened within her. “He is noble and courageous and deserves whatever honor we can give.”
“Exactly. And I tell you this. If Chertanne continues to treat you like one of his no-account concubines, I will be his enemy. ‘What is honorable must be revered and defended, regardless of where it is found. Baseness must be despised—and fought—wherever it is found.’”
“You’re quoting. Who said that?” the Chalaine asked.
“Gen did, last night. The man who lives that creed is the man who will guard my daughter. No other. Not anymore.”
“It will hurt you politically in some quarters. You know that, don’t you?”
“Most decisions I make do, but I am not making a political decision; I am making a personal and moral one. Chertanne will rise to our standard. We will not tolerate his. It is principle over expediency, dear. Chertanne acts like he does because no one taught him better, or—if they did teach him—never enforced the instruction. Gen, I think, is Chertanne’s first true instructor, and with Gen as your protector, Chertanne will have no chance to forget the lesson. We can only hope he understood what was taught.”
“But poor Dason,” the Chalaine lamented forlornly. “He is such a fine man. Courteous, noble. . .”
“. . . handsome, intelligent, charming. Yes, I know you are infatuated with him.”
“I am not!”
“Deny all you want, Chalaine, but a mother knows. I’ve watched you two for some time now. You were hoping that someone very like him would march off that pier yesterday.”
“You would have hoped the same were you in my place! I think I comported myself rather well, considering the colossal distance between my fanciful expectations and the disheartening reality. But you could have helped there, I think. Any hint of Chertanne’s character beforehand might have spared me being shocked into open-mouthed silence in front of the better part of the aristocracy and nobility.”
“Be that as it may,” Mirelle replied, dodging the accusation. “You don’t have to like Chertanne. In fact, I would be surprised if you could. But beware your feelings toward other men! Truthfully, I wish Gen were at least my age or Jaron’s. The last thing you need right now is another young man as your guard! But Gen is disciplined beyond my imagining and anxious to do his duty. I did not choose him because you will like him less than Dason, but if you do, then that is just as well.”
“I think Fenna has laid claim to him already,” the Chalaine said. “Very well, then
. I will accept your will and pretend that I had a choice. I hope you do not think I dislike Gen or undervalue what he did for me—for us. I owe him my honor and my dignity and will give him every respect. Have we learned more about him?”
“A little,” Mirelle answered, turning toward the mirror to adjust her hair. “The main curiosity, obviously, is how he is so skilled so young.”
“And?”
“And after watching them fight, Regent Ogbith had the answer. The same smith that forged Cormith forged Gen as well.”
The Chalaine’s mouth gaped. “Torbrand Khairn trained Gen? Why would the Shadan of Aughmere bother training a peasant of a nation he is now overrunning? It’s daft!”
“Shadan Khairn is known for swordsmanship, not good sense,” Mirelle quipped. “He is not always a rational man. I will try to find out why he did it and how, though I hesitate to ask Gen, as the memory of his training—or Shadan Khairn’s presence in his homeland—will not be pleasant. I believe the scars Gen suffered originated from that training or some other cruelty of the Shadan’s. I am to take a meal with Gen when time permits, and I’ll be sure to pass along anything interesting. But we should go. Ethris and Gen will be waiting for us. Is Fenna coming?”
“Yes. She will meet us there.”
After retrieving one of the Chalaine’s hairs from the brush, Mirelle opened the door. Jaron bowed deeply to the First Mother and the Chalaine, falling in behind them as they navigated the long passages underneath the Tower, emerging into the main corridor of the Great Hall and arriving at the double doors. Hurney stood there fast asleep. The First Mother motioned for silence from the guards, and they opened the doors to the outside without disturbing the old Chamberlain, who remained asleep despite the daylight that flooded over him through the doorway.
The Chalaine whispered, “How much longer do you think Fedrick can keep up his post, Mother?”
“His family is long-lived, so I hope he can keep at it for some time to come.”
