The Academy Volume One

by Maxine Mansfield

  “Hear me out before any of you say another word, please. If by the time I’ve finished you aren’t satisfied with my suggestion, then by all means settle it amongst yourselves. Kill each other if you must. There’s a simple solution to this entire insult-and-honor thing. One that I’m sure will satisfy all parties involved. Let us regroup in the council chambers below where we’ve more room and discuss this like the royals and leaders we are.”

  Cyrrick turned and, without a backward glance, led the way back down the steps.

  ****

  Sarco stood silently as he watched Cyrrick, standing tall and looking every inch the diplomat he was, on the very same platform he himself had made his life-changing mistake no more than a single turning of the hourglass ago. Cyrrick slowly perused the council chamber, making sure he made direct eye contact with kings, queens, lords, ladies, and all twelve members of the Council of the Elders before ever glancing back toward him. Sarco forced a smile on his face and nodded to his brother.

  Slowly, and dramatically, Cyrrick unrolled the parchment scroll he held in his hands and cleared his throat. “Colleagues, friends, contemporaries, what I wish to suggest is simple and to the point. I propose my brother, Sarco Sunwalker, perform the ancient barbarian quest, the Maiden’s Desire. That’s what barbarians throughout the centuries have done when they wished to garner favor, seek forgiveness of the royal house, or claim a princess for wife. I see no reason why it wouldn’t suffice in this situation.”

  The Maiden’s Desire quest? Has Cyrrick lost his mind? I’m not a warrior. I am a wizard. It takes more brawn than brain to complete such a quest. Sarco swallowed past the lump forming in his throat. But what if…?

  Cyrrick held up a hand, and the room quieted. “Unfortunately, an insult has been leveled. It wasn’t intentional, but it must be dealt with all the same. By completing this quest, Sarco will prove his willingness to do whatever it takes to be forgiven his transgression, prevent war between our peoples, win his bride, fulfill the prophecy, and regain his honor.”

  Sarco took a deep breath. If only.

  The room broke into pandemonium as voices became louder. “It can’t be done,” several people bellowed, followed by voice after voice of dissension.

  Someone from the far right side of the room asked, “Is it even legal? He’s not barbarian. He’s high-elf.”

  “It’s a damn hard quest, even for a barbarian,” another voice rang loud and clear from somewhere in the middle of the room. “No elf can do it, and certainly not before the deadline of the three full moons.”

  A contentious voice argued from the left, “An elf can do anything a barbarian can, and in less time, too!”

  Barbarians and elves faced each other.

  Sarco shook his head. If his brother didn’t get control of the room soon, another fight would ensue.

  The same voice who had spoken earlier from the right yelled, “Bah, elves are too soft and afraid of getting their lily-white hands dirty to do a quest, let alone the Maiden’s Desire. It’s barely been completed three times in all of history, and only then by barbarian champions.”

  Sarco grabbed Cyrrick’s arm. “Do something, say something, before this gets out of control again.”

  Cyrrrick raised his hand once more and a hush fell over the room. He tapped the worn parchment of the scroll, “There’s no law stating one must be born barbarian to attempt the quest. The Maiden’s Desire is almost as old as time itself and the outcome as binding as any promise.”

  Sarco gulped. How many promises had he alone broken this day? The last one being that one way or another, he’d find a way to keep himself and Lark together. And the people of the elfin kingdom of Landis, he’d certainly let all of them down.

  Cyrrick’s voice rose an octave, and Sarco forced himself to pay attention to the information he had no doubt would be imperative to not just his but also the future survival of elves everywhere.

  “The quest was first spoken, attempted, and completed before this world was through forming. That’s how long our distinguished barbarian brethren have inhabited and ruled over major parts of Albrath. What more appropriate ending to the fulfillment of the great prophecy than by completion of this ancient quest? Would that not truly join our peoples for all time as nothing else could?”

  Sweat dampened his hair and trickled down his neck as the eyes of a hundred angry barbarians bored into Sarco’s back. From shoulder blades to waist, his skin prickled, but he couldn’t dwell on it right now. He needed to concentrate on what Cyrrick was saying. He needed something, anything, to hold onto, to give him hope.

  “As most of you know, by right of birth, I myself am an elfin prince, but first and foremost, I’m a diplomat of the people, all of the people. It is the diplomat today who implores this esteemed group of leaders to listen to the words and the spirit of the quest. Hear them not with your ears but with your hearts.”

  Sarco held his breath.

  Cyrrick closed his eyes, lifted his head, took another deep breath, and brought the scroll up against his chest close to his heart. The lights dimmed, the sounds of the raging storm outside faded away, and not a single breath was heard as he spoke.

  “It’s ice and fire that forms a maiden’s desire.

  It’s searing heat where metal and gemstone first meet.

  It’s with love in mind that a treasure becomes divine.

  It’s a champion you must defeat for a heart you wish to seek.

  It’s your choice to make for the wife you will take.”

  Cyrrick had looked directly at Sarco when he read the last line, and it took a moment for the impact of his words to really sink in. Could it be true? Sarco shook his head twice, afraid to believe. “It sounds more like a riddle than a quest.”

  “Perceptive of you, brother,” Cyrrick whispered. “For it most certainly is a riddle of sorts. One that I have the utmost confidence you’ll be able to solve. And best of all, the rules of the quest state you may take companions to help you in any way you see fit. The only detail you must keep in mind is that at no time may any help in any form come from the princess you wish to choose, or else you forfeit the right to ask for her hand in marriage.”

  Sarco whispered back, “Are you telling me that if I complete this quest, I not only regain my honor and am forgiven my transgression, but I also earn the right to choose my wife from amongst the daughters of the barbarian royal house? Any of the daughters?”

  Cyrrick winked. “That’s precisely what I’m telling you.”

  A moment later, Sarco realized they hadn’t whispered quietly enough as a screech rent the air.

  “I’ll not have it. Do you hear me? My husband, the king, and I are the only two who have the right to choose and we choose our daughter, Aryanna. She’s firstborn; it’s her right to become Lady of Landis someday. Her name has been maligned, and I will have satisfaction. This…this…this elf will not be given the opportunity to do some stupid quest and weasel his way back into our gentle, good graces. He’ll not be allowed to pick a wife from amongst our daughters. They are not prize cattle to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. It’s unheard of. I’ll not stand for it, I tell you.”

  Queen Allanna looked almost pleadingly toward Wizard Arizon. “The prophecy. There must be some rule in our favor, right?”

  The old wizard looked thoughtful then slowly shook his head. “All the prophecy states is the firstborn heir of the high-elves must join in marriage to a princess of barbarian-human descent and forever merge all three peoples into one race. It doesn’t say he can’t do a quest and earn the right to choose which princess. We just presumed he would go along with your choice of Princess Aryanna. I mean, why wouldn’t he? Sarco knows his duty. After all, it was her hand he was trying to ask for when he bungled the job so badly.”

  Sarco smiled as the first rays of hope he’d felt in days settled into him.

  Queen Allanna screeched. “That’s not the point. Him choosing can’t even be acceptable as a consideration. Don’t you think th
is situation has been traumatic enough? We were already forced to agree to a marriage between an…an…an elf and one of our precious daughters, and now you’re allowing the pointy-eared misfit the right to choose? The only thing worse would be a match between one of our princesses and a…a…” She scanned the crowd. “A halfling! It’s unheard of.”

  Queen Allanna swooned, and the king caught her.

  King Alfred fanned his wife as he addressed the council. “Can’t you see what’s going on here? What this is doing to my dear wife? I smell treachery. I don’t mind the boy going on the quest to regain his honor and prevent war, but do you actually expect me to allow him to walk back in here and choose a mate from amongst my daughters like nothing happened? Prophecy or no, I have a problem with that.”

  The wizened old elf shook his head. “As it stands this moment, I don’t see what choice you have but to accept the terms of the quest. Unless war is exactly what you wish for…?”

  Sarco mentally sought Lark. “Wonderful, we finally have a chance.”

  Her excitment flooded his mind. “Yes, my—”

  Sherman Bobert Limburger the Ninth stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Point of order, if you please.” Heads turned toward the sound.

  “If it pleases this body, I mean group, I mean council…umm…”

  King Alfred stopped fanning his wife for a moment and shook his fist at the little man. “If you have something to say, spit it out. If not, step back. We’re discussing important business here.”

  Sherman once more cleared his throat and tugged at his collar. “It’s just, sir, madams, council members, umm, if the only sticking point here as to whether Sarco gets to do this quest to be forgiven or not rests solely on who he can or can’t choose to marry, then there is something everyone seems to be overlooking.”

  He tugged at his collar again.

  King Alfred motioned him forward and dread filled Sarco. He had no idea what the halfling was about to say, but with Sherman’s history, the chances of it being in Sarco’s favor weren’t good.

  Sherman made his way through the crowd and walked right up to the barbarian king. “I took a class once on the human race so, well, I’m somewhat of a trivia buff when it comes to their laws and customs. Section nine, page two hundred thirty-four, paragraph five, of the sixth volume of Rules of Being Human, plainly states, ‘In the matter of marriage in royal families, daughters of the same house must marry in the order of their birth. Your daughters are not full-blooded barbarian, but are equally human. So, you see, sir, it doesn’t matter who you and your wife chose for Sarco to marry, or who he would’ve chosen if he does complete the quest. By human law, it’s Princess Aryanna he must marry.”

  Sarco closed his eyes, and Lark gasped within his mind. He opened them once more. Like watching a tragic event unfold, he couldn’t look away from the carnage.

  Clouds obscured the moon and heavy shadows formed in the hall. A sudden booming clap of thunder startled the halfling and his voice faltered briefly. “I, I don’t mean to babble, sir, r-really I don’t. It’s just that the prophecy clearly states the marriage between the high-elf heir and the barbarian-human princess must be consummated while the three moons of Albrath are all in their full phase. That will happen in less than a fortnight.

  “So you see, sir, when Sarco does go on this quest, it can only be with the hope he’ll succeed and be awarded forgiveness, regain his honor, and marry Princess Aryanna, for she is the oldest and must marry first.”

  Rain suddenly pelted the roof of the hall so hard, Sherman was forced to yell. “You’ve nothing to worry about. I mean, what’s he going to do? It’s not like he can find husbands for your other daughters and do a quest at the same time?”

  His heart thudded with defeat so powerfully that Sarco was certain it was going to burst. He didn’t care. If he couldn’t have Lark, what good would his life be? How could he ever have been willing to go through with the stupid proposal ceremony in the first place while hoping for a miracle? What a fool he’d been. And now, both he and Lark would pay for his stupidity for the rest of their lives.

  ****

  Tears stung Lark’s eyes as the realization she’d never have Sarco for her own sunk into her soul. She felt Aryanna’s gasp and thoughts almost as if they were her own.

  “Section what of what? How could this have happened? Married by who was born first? We did all this for nothing? Oh Lord Draka, what’ve we done?”

  Lark’s head hurt with the force of Aryanna’s thoughts, and she projected her own pain back to the sister she couldn’t even look at right now. “It was you? You changed the words? How could you do that to me, to Sarco? Why would you?”

  Two words floated back from Aryanna’s mind to Lark’s. The anguish and helplessness of those words settled deep in Lark’s heart like a heavy stone. “I’m sorry.”

  A silence like death hung over the hall as a piercing cold seeped in and surrounded the inhabitants. Each individual breath in the room hung suspended in icy crystals of air. In unison, every soul turned toward the floor-to-ceiling windows gracing the west wall and stared in horror and awe at the sight outside.

  For the first time in the history of Albrath, the heavens above the Academy froze. Clouds took on the appearance of ice mounds and slowed their movement midflight.

  Then, it snowed, one flake at a time. Slowly at first, with the momentum picking up quickly. Finally, the skies burst wide open and large flakes of perfectly formed snow bombarded the ground where snow had never, ever, fallen before.

  Chapter Sixteen

  If ever a man needed a friend more than Sarco Sunwalker did this very moment, Lark would like to see that man.

  Sarco’s shoulders drooped. His head hung low. The promise of pain to come was etched deeply on his face, and he looked defeated.

  Lark wondered if he was as numb as she. Numbness was preferable to the anguish she knew to be swirling just below the surface. The anguish waited patiently for both her and Sarco to let down their guard and allow it in to destroy what was left of their hearts.

  She forced herself to stay put and not rush headlong to Sarco’s side and into his arms. She wanted to hold him and be held. Anything to keep the gut-wrenching pain at bay for a few more turns of the hourglass. She couldn’t, though. It wasn’t her place or her right.

  A voice boomed from the council members and put all other thoughts on hold. “Enough discussion. It’s late, and I’m an old man sorely in need of his bed. Let us be done with this.”

  The great wizard Arizon pointed in the direction of the barbarian king, and Lark held her breath in anticipation of his words. “King Alfred, will you or will you not accept Prince Sarco’s apology for his unfortunate mistake if he completes the quest?”

  The king looked to his wife. Queen Allanna scowled toward the high-elf prince but, after a moment, nodded.

  The king stood. “Aye, the barbarian throne will accept his apology if he successfully completes the quest.”

  The wizard then trained his eye on Sarco. “And you, great-nephew, heir of Landis, wizard in your own right, will you accept the terms of the quest?”

  Sarco lifted his head and straightened his shoulders. “I accept,” he said, his spine ramrod straight.

  Lark let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

  The old elf wizard clapped his hands above his head and every candle in the hall burned with a flame so white it bathed even the deepest crevices of the room in a warm light. Every face was illuminated. “Then choose your companions, Sarco Sunwalker, and choose them wisely. May God Draka watch over and bless your journey.”

  Sarco raised a hand and pointed. “Sir Uthiel Dragonheart, the greatest paladin I’ve ever known and my dearest friend, will you lend me your sword and quest with me?”

  Lark smiled as the tall, handsome man stepped forward with the look of a proud warrior on his face. “My sword and my loyalty are yours. Of course, I’ll quest with you, Sarco. Did you really think you could’ve
gone without me?”

  Uthiel stepped forward, grasped forearms with Sarco, and took his place at the wizard’s side.

  “Leeky Shortz, the greatest rogue Albrath has ever known, guide to kings and warriors alike. Dear friend, will you quest with me?”

  Lark rolled her eyes and then grinned as the gnome stepped proudly forward.

  “What the oozing, purulent zits on the underbelly of a two-platt chubby ogre harlot are ya thinking, lad? Did ya even need ta ask? Aye, I’ll quest with ya.” Leeky removed his golden go-to-a-special-meeting gloves and replaced them with what Lark guessed were his indigo-blue questing ones. He tucked the ever-present Miss Bunny firmly under his arm and joined the other two men.

  Sarco once more spoke. “Sherman Bobert Limburger the Ninth, though I can’t say with complete honestly you’re my best student, you do try the hardest and you certainly have the biggest heart and mouth. Will you quest with me?”

  Lark’s heart pounded as Sherman rushed forward to Sarco’s side.

  “Oh, Sarco, sir, this is the greatest moment of my life. You won’t be sorry you picked me. Just you wait and see. I’ll make you proud. I can’t wait to write my parents and tell them about this. They’ll never believe it. I took a class once on questing but never dreamed I’d ever actually go on one and especially with the great wizard Sarco Sunwalker, and Sir Uthiel and Leeky. I don’t know what to say.” His sobs prevented him from continuing.The man who owned her heart spun toward the section where the majority of the royal barbarian family was seated and surprised Lark with his next request.

  “Prince Adan Zeth Conner Hammerstrike, your reputation for being just and your sense of fairness are well known throughout the land. When this quest is over, I don’t wish there to be any question as to whether all the rules were followed to the letter of the law. Will you quest with me?”

  Lark knew if she wanted to, she could trespass into her brother’s mind and manipulate his answer. She shuddered at the thought. They were no longer children and this wasn’t a game. This was all too real, too important. She wouldn’t consider it even for a moment. Instead, she waited like everyone else.