Chapter 7 – In The Queen's Regiment
Wellton was a labyrinthine assortment of streets and alleyways in various states of repair and cleanliness, arranged in roughly east-west and north-south lines. In the area immediately surrounding Radan’s shop, the streets were narrow and somewhat dark, but not in disrepair. They learned that part of the city was older, but housed solid working-class folk who largely abided the law and kept their neighborhood clean and safe. Only a quarter mile west, toward the outer wall, the houses became more run down and the rate of crime a bit higher. A quarter mile east, toward the center of the city the houses grew in size, the shops were more expensive, and crime rate much lower. The young men were amazed in such changes over so short a span of distance. Being country-bred they had not encountered such a phenomenon before.
While considering their next steps and what supplies they may need on their journey, Brey remembered he needed boots and the lads set out to find a cobbler or clothier who might have a reasonably priced pair. Though they had plenty of money now, he saw no need to be extravagant. Besides, they needed to save as much as they could for their passage to the Crystalline Sea.
A cobbler was found who sold good, sturdy boots at fair prices and they each got a new pair. They asked the man where they could get a good meal and he directed them to a nice inn two streets over. He explained they could go through the alley around the corner and go straight through to that street. Brey thanked the man and he and Nev went toward the alley indicated.
Rounding the corner, they found the alley easily and walked through to the next street. Halfway to the last street was a small courtyard with a few booths selling cheap trinkets and scarves. Only a few people were gathered there, which made seeing her almost inevitable.
She was wrapped in a common brown cloak and wearing plain clothing, but she was the most amazing thing Brey had ever seen in his life. She had skin the color of marble and fine, golden hair cascading gently over one shoulder. Her eyes had just the slightest tilt at the corners making her appear wonderfully exotic. The young woman's heart-shaped face was perfection, her high cheekbones accentuating the gentle line of her jaw. Her full lips, the color of roses, were exquisitely shaped. In short, she was more beautiful than any princess in any story Brey had ever read.
She was looking at scarves, pulling them down from the rod on which they were hung one by one, holding each up to the light to see how the sunlight filtered through. She found one she liked and smiled brightly, causing Brey to stop breathing for several seconds.
Nev had walked on several steps before he realized his friend was not beside him. He turned back and looked at him, then turned and looked at the object of Brey's adoration. Nev walked back to his companion and shook him slightly. "Hey, chum. If you don't start breathing, you will keel over right here."
Brey shook himself and took a deep breath. "Isn't she the loveliest thing you've ever seen?" He was thoroughly smitten and could not take his eyes from her face.
"She is very beautiful, but we aren't staying in Wellton, Brey." responded Nev gently, he grabbed Brey's arm and started to pull him along.
They started walking toward the alleyway opposite and Nev noticed a man standing there staring at the girl as well. "Besides, it looks like you have competition." he said with a wry smile. As the other turned to look at the man, four more came into the courtyard from the alley they were approaching and the one who had been standing by the wall joined them and walked toward the young woman. They silently surrounded her and they reached for their swords. Without thought, both young men also drew their swords.
The tall man in the dull gray robe said clearly, "You should never have left your guards. Now you are mine!" With his last statement, he stepped forward and spun the beautiful girl around, placing the tip of his dagger at her neck. She gasped and backpedaled until she was up against the stall at which she had been shopping. The crowd ran quickly from the alleyway, leaving only Brey and Nev and the brigands with their captive.
The men were standing relaxed as they watched their leader, so they were completely unprepared as Brey and Nev attacked them from behind. Two men were hamstrung and unable to fight before they even knew what happened, the remaining swordsmen spun quickly and held their swords at the ready.
"Let her go!" yelled Brey, his bloodied sword leveled at the man who held his knife to the young woman's throat.
"Deal with them!" barked the leader, grabbing the girl by the arm tightly. The other two men held their swords low, swinging them slowly side to side.
Nev was only a little nervous. The last sword fight he was in, he was nearly run through by Fletcher the Fierce; however, this time was different, he was now truly ready. All the patterns and series that Radan had shown him were clear in his mind. His opponent swung his sword in a slow overhand stroke, obviously underestimating his ability. Nev blocked easily and struck low and fast, drawing blood from the villain's left knee. The man hobbled backward and switched his stance, putting his right leg more to the fore and making his left-handed attack clumsier. The robed swordsman began a series of strikes and counter strikes that were quite basic. In Nev's mind, it was obvious the injured man was not able to put up a serious offense. The young man countered the last feeble strike and forced the man to defend his weak side then pressed until the man began to loose his balance. In short-order the man was clearly ready to fall. The enemy tried to side-step to right himself, but he only succeeded in throwing himself further off balance, allowing Nev to step in and score a solid hit to his sword arm. The criminal was not able to continue and threw his sword aside, laying down in submission.
As for Brey, his foe was uninjured and more skilled than Nev's vanquished foe had been and was able to give and take in a fierce exchange where each man was put to the test. The would-be kidnapper would attack high and defend low. Brey knew this gambit and began setting up the attacker for a surprise. Barlow had shown them many different types of attacks, including those that involved long series of strokes not so easily picked up by the defender, allowing them to be caught in a 'trap'. Brey knew the man would continue with a high-low series for a several exchanges, letting him slip into a rhythm and be caught when the foe switched tactics suddenly, thus catching him off guard, and likely running him through. The young man had used such a tactic himself in his ‘demonstration’ with Corporal Winrow in Newellen.
Brey wasn't going to wait for the trap to spring on him. He waited for the next series to start and then countered with a series of thrusts to his opponent's weak side followed by a rapid high-low exchange; this was intended to cause the man to fall out of his own rhythm and allow our hero to make a killing stroke.
While Brey and his opponent rang blow after blow on each other, Nev moved cautiously toward the man holding the young woman hostage. He wanted to make sure this man would not escape while the battle was raging. The man saw him coming and sized him up. The tall criminal opted to pull the young woman in front of him and hold his knife-edge to her throat. Obviously, he planned to escape with his life, even if it meant killing the girl. Nev stopped before the man and held his sword ready, though not threatening him directly as yet.
Behind him, Nev, he could hear the sharp ring of steel meeting steel. By watching the face of the man in front of him, he could gauge how the battle was going. The man's expression went from annoyance to anger to consternation and then to fear as the blows seemed to be coming closer and closer together. Just as the man's eyes widened in shock, Nev heard the man behind him groan in pain; Brey had won. In a moment, his friend stood beside him.
Brey moved a bit to one side so that the man had no escape. "Let her go and we will spare your life. Three of your men are sorely injured and one is dead, your only means of escape is to let her go and run for your life." His voice sounded strange in his ears, as though someone else had spoken the words.
The man kept a hold on the girl and began moving toward N
ev slowly, the young man moved to block his escape. "Just let her go, mister. You can leave if you let her go unharmed." Nev held his rock steady blade before him. The man looked from one to the other then suddenly thrust the girl toward Brey and ran for the alley at top speed.
Brey quickly stepped to the side to catch the young woman as she lost her balance. She clung to his arm tightly and began to cry, her first tears since the ordeal began. He set down his sword and held her as she wept. Between sobs she thanked them over and over.
Nev gathered the injured men together, disarming them. Just then, four crimson uniformed guards burst into the alley from the same direction the travelers had come. They leveled their swords and ordered Nev to drop his weapon. One large soldier grabbed Brey, wrested the girl from him, and held him at sword point.
"Stop!" was the loud cry heard from the young woman. "Put up your swords, they are not the criminals you seek." She pointed to the injured villains sitting huddled together. "Those and one who escaped are the men you want."
"Are you harmed, Your –" The girl silenced him with a quick motion, her composure once more intact.
"I am fine, thank you. It is, of course, all my fault for sneaking out." said the girl with a sidelong glance at the young men. "We should go; I am sure my mother will be very upset with me." Without even looking back, she turned and walked down the alley, the cloaked guardsmen close around her. Brey watched her walk away with a pang of disappointment sharp in his chest. In the stories he had read, the hero was rewarded with a kiss for rescuing the fair maiden. It seemed that was only in stories.
One soldier remained behind to get an accounting of the attack and to watch over the remaining criminals until the constables could take them into custody. After Nev and Brey had given their names and their statement of events, they began walking back to Radan's shop without having eaten; their appetites seemed to have fled. Brey was troubled and remained quiet almost the entire way back. Soon Nev asked him what the matter was.
"Nev, I ran that man through. I killed him." He took a breath as though to say more, but nothing came out.
"You had no choice, Brey. He would have done the same to you if he had gotten the chance."
"I know. It's just – " He couldn't frame his many feelings into a single thought. He just shook his head and continued to brood. Soon they were back to Radan's shop and related the events of the day to the old general.
"And you say the soldiers that came at last were wearing crimson tunics and cloaks? You are certain of that?"
"Yes." said Nev. "Is that important?"
Radan looked from one to the other and grinned. "I guess not, but I have a feeling you two may have stepped in something again. You seem to have a talent for it."
"Why?" asked Brey fearfully. He was terrified he would be taken into custody for killing the man. "Who are those crimson cloaked men, Radan?"
"A crimson cloak is the uniform of the Queen's Regiment, lad. You may have saved a young noblewoman from harm. If so, you are not likely to be bothered over killing a common criminal in self-defense. Not to worry, Aubrey, if they were going to arrest you, they would have done it already." He patted the younger man on the shoulder to reassure him. "Well, nothing for it now but to wait and see. Why don't you try to eat something? Worrying on an empty stomach will only make you feel worse."
The evening passed without event and the boys tried to get some sleep, but it was not to come easily. They spent a restless night, alternately trying to sleep and sitting up talking quietly about the day's events. Brey was hit especially hard at having taken a life, regardless of how lawless the man may have been. No matter how hard he tried to justify the act by claiming self-defense, his small town upbringing told him he was a killer nonetheless.
Early the next morning, there was a banging on the door of Radan's shop followed shortly by the sleepy old soldier's exclamations. "What in the name of the Creator is all the noise about!" he barked as he made his way to the front of the shop. He peered around the shade, holding up his lantern see who was there. "This had better be good, it's not even dawn yet." he said testily as he opened the door.
"I apologize for waking you so early, General. I am to deliver a message to your guests, if they are still here." announced the man. He was a man of middle years, a good fifteen years younger than Radan, wearing a crisp white and crimson uniform, adorned with clusters indicating he was a Guard Captain.
"Any reason you couldn't have delivered this in daylight, Captain Gelling?"
"Chamberlain Osten was quite clear that the message be delivered as early as possible." he replied. "Your guests are to be brought to the Chamberlain's office no later than one hour past dawn, sir. You may accompany them if you choose."
Radan made a sour face. "Osten has always been very fond of being 'quite clear'. Wait here." He walked to the back where Nev and Brey had been sitting at the table, trying to hear what was going on.
"Have they come to arrest me?" asked Brey, his hands trembling. His mind conjured images of being brought to prison in chains.
"Doubt it. The Queen's Chamberlain seldom involves himself in the simple arrest of street fighters. Let's go and see what the Captain really wants." He turned and walked back to the front of the store.
The captain was still standing by the door, his posture rigid and his face serious. He looked over the young men with their plain clothing and tousled hair and said, "I am to bring you to the office of Chamberlain Osten. You cannot go looking like that, however. You will need to make yourselves more- presentable." He practically sneered as he said 'presentable'.
Radan made an ugly noise, but said nothing to him. "C'mon, lads. Let's find something presentable to wear and see what the old windbag wants."
"You're coming too?" asked Brey with a surge of relief.
"I wouldn't honor my old friend's request well by letting you go alone, now would I?" he replied as he entered his room to dress. The young men ran up to the loft to find their best clothes. After changing clothes, they went out back to wash their faces and comb their hair as best they could. In a short span of time, they were ready to leave. Dawn was just beginning to break.
Outside Radan's shop was a carriage unlike anything either of the young men had ever seen; it even got a comment from the surly old general. "Not pulling out any of the stops is he?" he asked, mostly to himself. "That settles it, lads. I guarantee you will never be brought to prison in a carriage. It seems Osten is trying to be impressive."
He looked over at the awed expressions of Nev and Brey. "Guess its working on you two anyway." he said with a laugh. They stepped up into the carriage along with the captain; a young soldier sitting in front shook the reins sending the horses walking along the street.
The carriage ride through the streets of Wellton was quite a novelty for the two young men, Carl's four-wheeled wagon being the most extravagant conveyance they had been on outside of the riverboat. The next novelty came after ten minutes of riding when the ornate gates of the castle came into view. Both gasped at the sight of the golden gates, the guards standing perfectly to attention, and the banners and pennons flying from battlements and spear tips. The castle itself was a constructed of light grey granite blocks, nearly two feet to a side. The walls were over fifty feet high, almost smooth, and broken only by the few arrow slits facing the front. It seemed exactly as they had read about in adventures.
"I imagine," began Radan, interrupting their thoughts, "you might be thinking that this is how it is supposed to be. Books and stories tend to make castles and palaces more grand and exciting than they really are. Although, I have to admit this is a remarkable castle in that it is probably as close to one of those stories as you can reasonably expect to get, but don't get too caught up, we are here to visit, not move in."
They entered the gate without stopping and rode up to a broad stairway at the right side of the massive edifice. Captain Gelling led them thro
ugh the doorway and down a long corridor. He turned left and right several times before stopping in front of a polished wooden door adorned with ornate iron hinges, and knocked.
"Enter." was the muffled reply.
As the young men entered the large room, they saw a plain looking man standing by a desk, looking over some papers. He looked up and smiled widely. "Well, well. Please, come in." His smile lost a bit of its brilliance as he saw Radan. "General." He added, nodding his head slightly.
Radan seemed a bit cool. "Osten. Good to see you again." There was much tension in the air over that very brief exchange. It seemed there was a history of unpleasantness between them.
The Queen's Chamberlain stepped forward and shook each hand in turn, even Radan's. "I hope you weren't too inconvenienced being awakened so early."
"That's all right." responded Brey nervously.
Seeing his agitation, Osten got to the point. "I imagine you are wondering why you are here this morning, correct?"
Both young men nodded. Radan thought it obvious why they were there, a young noble woman was rescued and the 'secretary' wanted to get some of that glory to rub off on him.
"When you arrived in Wellton a few days ago, I am told, you were instrumental in the capture of a known enemy of the Crown." They nodded again. "Then, yesterday afternoon, you were involved in a bit of a skirmish in the city. It seems your intervention was quite timely, as well as valuable to the Crown yet again. Let me explain why. Please, have a seat." he offered, gesturing to the chairs in front of his large desk. He sat in his own comfortable chair behind the desk.
"The Princess Ashlynn is a precocious young lady, as was her mother at that age, I understand. She has made a habit of eluding her escort and venturing into the city without protection, sometimes with one of her ladies-in-waiting, though more often alone. Yesterday was one such day. It seems the event that the spy, Chalakan, was waiting for was the opportunity to abduct or perhaps assassinate the Princess Ashlynn."
Radan nearly jumped up from his seat. "By the Creator! Chalakan had become desperate indeed to try something like that. The Queen would never have succumbed to such extortion; surely he must have known that."
"It is hard to say, General Radan. A mother would give much to save her child; perhaps even the throne." replied Osten.
Nev half raised his hand and asked, "I don't understand, sir. What does this have to do with us?"
"Everything, Nev." answered the general. "The girl you two rescued yesterday was the Princess Ashlynn."
"Indeed, my friends, it was the Princess." Osten responded. "And in order to properly express her gratitude as both mother and Queen, Her Majesty would like to thank you two personally."
It took a moment for that to sink in for the young men. Their hearts began to race as they realized they were to meet their ruler. Brey's raced even more, since he would again get to meet the young woman who had so completely taken his breath away the day before. And she was the Princess!
"Now," began the official, "before I bring you to see them, I must provide you with some instruction. I understand you are country lads and unfamiliar with the protocol of meeting royalty." he said with a smile.
The young men nodded and laughed nervously. For the next ten minutes, Osten showed them how to kneel and bow properly and what phrases were required when greeting or bidding a monarch farewell. As far as Nev could tell, being a royal person must be very difficult; there was an awful lot to remember just to say hello and goodbye. Once the chamberlain deemed they were ready, he called for a page and asked him to inform the Queen her guests were here and at her disposal. Nev wasn't sure what that meant, but trusted that Osten and Radan must.
The messenger returned in less than ten minutes to say the Queen would receive her guests in her sitting room. This news caused Radan to raise his eyebrows. "Seems this may be less formal than you thought, Osten, if she is to see us in her sitting room"
"Not at all," replied the balding man, "she meant for the audience to be informal, given the nature of the service these young men have provided her personally. She is speaking as monarch and mother both, and the throne room is for monarchs only, mothers can be seen in sitting rooms, however." he replied with a good-natured chuckle.
The old soldier actually laughed with him. "I see your point." Nev and Brey had no idea what they were talking about, their only thought was they were going to meet the Queen and they were never more nervous in their young lives.
Once again they were walking the halls of the castle, the chamberlain led the way, his robes of office billowing as he took long strides along the stone corridor. In a short time, they approached an arched doorway with two ornately decorated, iron-bound doors and four guards. The sentinels snapped to attention as they approached. From the slightly sour look Osten gave Radan, this action may have been for the retired commander's sake rather than the royal official's.
The Chamberlain walked up to the door and knocked. The door was opened a moment later by a butler dressed all in white except for a black waistcoat and bow tie, who gestured that they may enter. The chamber was by far the largest single room either young man had ever been in. It was larger than the inn they stayed at in Newellen! Their eyes were everywhere at once, trying to take it all in; all others in the room went unnoticed until a high clear voice spoke.
"Please, come in." The voice belonged to a beautiful woman with long golden hair and clear green eyes. She stood near a dining table wearing a dress the same orange color as autumn leaves, soft yet vibrant. Sitting at the table beside her was the young woman from the market, looking somewhat shy. She held her hands in her lap and her chin was raised, though not so high as to make her look haughty. Her dress was a soft blue, like that of the spring sky. Her eyes flickered over Nev and rested on Brey for a longer moment before being demurely downcast.
Brey's eyes didn't see the Queen in that moment; they rested on the radiant face of the Princess. He too lowered his eyes after a moment, not wanting to offend her by being too forward. Then both he and Nev remembered who stood before them and knelt quickly, causing Osten to cringe slightly at the abruptness and clumsiness of the young men. Radan and Osten knelt as well, though with much better form.
"Please, gentlemen, there is no need for that here. I do not wish for this to be a formal ceremony." Her gaze shifted to the servants present in the room. "Would you please leave us?" she asked politely. As Nev rose, he marveled that the Queen of a whole land would be so polite. He had envisioned rulers as being the kind of people who gave commands and did not need to use their manners.
Once the doors to the sitting room were closed, the Queen asked them to come closer. They walked on shaky legs toward the ruler of their country feeling very uncertain of what to do next. Brey was first to remember what Osten had told him to say and Nev repeated it just as awkwardly right after. Arriana, Queen of all Merridon laughed a silvery laugh that seemed to relax her young guests almost instantly.
"I see my chamberlain has tutored you in the niceties of greeting royalty. Well done, you have done your duty to ceremony." She smiled sweetly at them and they returned that smile tentatively. "With that out of the way I hope we can relax." She looked at each speculatively for a moment and stated, "You must be Neville." choosing him correctly.
"Yes, Ma'am- I mean, your Majesty." he replied, quickly correcting himself.
She turned her gaze to his chum and said, "That would make you, Aubrey. My daughter tells me you are a fierce swordsman." Brey blushed and nodded his head.
"In fact, you must both be quite skilled indeed, I am told by my daughter's guard captain that the men you defeated were known to be well-trained and quite dangerous. Pity we were not able to capture their leader, Jasper. However, given the situation, I am quite pleased to have him go free if it means my beloved Ashlynn lives." She gazed lovingly at her daughter as she said the last.
She turned to her other visitor.
"General Radan, it is wonderful to see you again. I trust your business is good."
He bowed slightly, "It is, Your Majesty. Thank you for asking." It was clear the general had the utmost respect for Her Majesty.
She gestured toward the table and said, "Please, let us all sit. Given the hour, I would wager you are all in need of breakfast."
On the table was a meal so sumptuous it was nearly overwhelming to the country-bred lads. They had never seen so much food served for a single meal in all their lives. There was a large bowl of eggs, scrambled to perfection; a platter heaped with sausages, ham and steaks; a large assortment of drinks; and many kinds of bread, some toasted and some plain. Creams and sauces whose purpose they could only guess at were also served. The young men ate their fill, as they were invited to do by Her Majesty, using their best manners of course. Throughout breakfast, Brey and Ashlynn stole glances at one another and occasionally exchanged a few words.
Nev was enjoying the wonderful food and listening as the Queen and Radan made small talk and answered the questions asked of him. She has asked him the purpose of their journey and he related their goal to her. She commented that while it was an ambitious undertaking, it was clear the young men were determined and capable and she felt certain they would succeed. He glowed at the confidence she showed in them.
All in all, he found the whole idea of having breakfast with the Royal family quite surreal and he thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it. Soon everyone had finished their meal and was enjoying a cup of tea.
"I am afraid," said the beautiful Queen, "that my day must start in earnest in a short time. So I must proceed with the other reason you have been brought here; though I assure you, I would much rather spend the day in your gentle company." She rose and glided to a side table where she picked up a little silver bell and rang it lightly. Momentarily, the butler came into the room carrying a silver tray; atop it were two scrolls and two small boxes. The man set the tray down on the table, bowed, and left without a word.
"Last night," she began, "I gave much thought as to how one rewards another for selflessly thrusting himself into a battle not of his own making and saving the life of a person he has never met. I puzzled over this for some time in fact." She picked up the scrolls and turned toward the table where the others sat. "Such action would be expected of one of the Queen's Regiment, for that is their duty. You two have no military oath or vow binding you to such action; you have only your own honor, your decency, and your bravery.
"It occurred to me that no amount of silver or gold could adequately express my feelings about this. I also understand you have already been given a monetary reward for aiding in the capture of the spy, Chalakan. No, this reward cannot simply be more gold, for the service you have provided is too profound. You have shown the kind of skill and bravery we seek in selecting soldiers to serve as my personal guard; given that, I have decided to confer upon the two of you the honorary rank of Sergeant in the Queen's Regiment, with all the privileges that entails." She handed each a scroll.
Radan gasped at the proclamation. "By the Creator!" he exclaimed.
The young men were thunderstruck. They held the scrolls in trembling hands as though they were made of glass. Could they have heard her correctly? Such an honor is long sought by almost every soldier; becoming a member of the Queen's Regiment can take years, as it had for their mentor, Barlow.
Queen Arriana smiled at their awestruck faces. "I can see you are surprised. Well, I assure you it is well deserved. Your actions are precisely those we seek in the men who would protect the Royal family." She seemed thoughtful for a moment. "In fact, you two remind me much of a former member of this select group. In my youth, I met another soldier who acted as you have, without thought of self, taking on a great challenge and emerging victorious; Braydon, my former advisor. It is good to see that such men still exist in the Realm." The young men exchanged amazed looks at being compared so favorably to the greatest Hero of the Realm and their mentor, Braydon.
She turned to the table and retrieved the two small boxes. "These insignia, worn upon your cloak, denote your rank; wear them proudly. Though this may be an honorary rank, it is granted for the same reasons a serving soldier may receive it." Still speechless, they accepted the boxes. "Osten will take you from here to the quartermaster where you will also receive your crimson uniform and cloak."
She stepped back, looked at the stunned young men, and giggled almost girlishly. "I can see you will need some time to absorb all of this."
Brey tried to speak, but in the end could only manage a weak 'thank you'.
She replied gently, "Do not thank me, Aubrey; it is I who am grateful. To the both of you." She reached out and took each by the hand pulled them to their feet; she held their hands a moment and kissed them each lightly on the cheek. Ashlynn, too, arose and bestowed a light kiss upon each, thanking them.
"I am afraid it is time for us to go. Godspeed on your journey and know that you have the gratitude of all Merridon." Both lads wished them goodbye, then she and the princess turned to leave, Ashlynn's gaze lingering a moment longer on Brey's face. The Queen stopped a moment to bid the general goodbye and then she and her daughter left the room through a door in the back.
Osten led the young men to the quartermaster and had them sized and outfitted with the crimson cloak, uniform, and shiny black boots and sword belt of the Queen's Regiment. Osten grudgingly allowed General Radan to affix the insignia on the collar of each young man's cloak.
Brey and Nev had never in their lives felt so proud. They found their voices once again as they were being walked to the entrance of the castle where they had come in just a few hours before. They chattered excitedly and could not seem to stop smiling. The carriage that had picked them up that morning was once again there to bring them back to Radan's shop. As they rolled through the gate, Nev jumped and whooped loudly, letting some of the excitement he felt come out. He and Brey laughed and whooped all the way back to the shop. Radan joined them in their laughter and was very excited for the young men. It was not yet noon when they finally got back.
Radan asked the young men what they planned to do next.
"I imagine we should be planning our walk to Groden. Maybe we could just take a riverboat again." he thought aloud, looking at Brey for his opinion.
Brey seemed a bit distracted. "Hmm? What? What riverboat?" he asked, looking from Nev to Radan.
Nev laughed at his friend. "Is your mind elsewhere, Brey? The palace maybe?" Brey blushed and mumbled something about being overwhelmed by the morning.
"I imagine you are." said the old soldier. "She is quite beautiful, isn't she? They both are in fact." He finished with a wink at Nev.
The lanky youth tried to assume an air of innocence. "I don't know what you mean." he said. After a moment, they all started to laugh. "Ok, ok. The princess Ashlynn does sort of sit in my mind."
"Don't let yourself get too absorbed, lad." advised the old man. "As a princess, she is a bit out of your league."
They talked of their plans for moving on to Groden. At one point Radan asked to see the map that Barlow had given them. "Well, it's not exactly the finest map I have ever drawn now is it?" he asked as he scrutinized the parchment.
"You made this?" asked Nev in surprise.
"Of course." he replied. "Why do you think I chose to open a map shop when I retired? I spent a great deal of my time in the military as a cartographer, a mapmaker. It wasn't until I was promoted to colonel that I became a bureaucrat. I didn't stop making maps though; everywhere I traveled I refined my maps."
"That must be very hard to do."
"Not as hard as you might think; you just have to have an eye for scale and proportion. If we had more time, I would show you how it's done." He looked at the map again and said, "I am going to give you a better map than this. A man always needs a good map." He went to the front of his shop for a few moments and ret
urned with a slightly larger scroll than he had taken. "This should be much better; it's more accurate and has more detail. A few of the roads and towns on the old one aren't even there any more; and quite a few have been added." He handed the map to Nev who unrolled it partially to look at it.
"What do you think we should do, Radan?" asked Brey.
"About what?"
"Should we take a boat or go afoot to Groden?"
He scratched is chin in thought for a moment. "Well, it's not for me to tell you your business, but if it's an adventure you want, I should think taking the road would be preferable. Taking the river is faster but you don't get as much of a feel for the road or the Realm. It wouldn't do for all your memories of this journey to be on the river; you need to see the land you're traveling to really appreciate it."
The travelers looked at each other for a moment. "I guess you're right." said Nev. "There's not much adventure to sitting and floating. We should get enough of that when we put out to sea."
Radan grinned at them broadly. "That's the spirit, lads!"
They spent the rest of the day pouring over the map and gathering supplies for their long walk to Groden. The distance appeared to be about the same as the journey from Carsby to Newellen, perhaps a bit longer. Part of the journey will take them through the low foothills at the southern end of the Merridon Mountains, from which the country got its name. They found the notion of seeing the mountains, even from a distance exciting. Coming from a village on the Central Plains, they had no experience with such sights.
The Merridon Mountains stretched from north to south on the western border of the Realm, the southern portion curving to the southeast almost to Groden itself. Even from the city of Wellton, the peaks could be seen in the distance, inviting adventurers to come and explore. Many seekers of precious metals, like silver and gold, have gone to the northern end of the mountains seeking their fortunes. Few returned with their fortune, most returned with just their lives; the northern reaches of Merridon's western border can be a very dangerous place.
After dinner, they sat with Radan at his kitchen table finalizing their travel plans. "It looks as though we will be a good six or seven days walking to Groden."
"More likely ten and some, lads. Once you get to the foothills, it'll be a little slower going; those roads twist and turn and go up and down as well." He was thoughtful for a moment before adding. "You may want to consider riding."
"Horses?" exclaimed Brey. The old man nodded. "We can't afford to buy horses!"
Radan laughed at the incredulous look on the young men's faces. "You two should have been listening a bit more closely when Queen Arriana conferred your rank. 'With all the privileges that entails'?" He could see they still didn't understand. "Lads, one of the privileges of a Sergeant in the QR is to sign out a horse for travel. You get a horse here, ride it to Groden and turn it in to the garrison there. Nothing simpler."
Nev thought about this new insight for a minute and then asked, "What other privileges are there?"
Radan spent the next several minutes outlining some of the benefits of being a member of the QR. There were many that didn't seem useful, but a few could be very handy indeed.
Friends of the Crown - Book 1 of Heroes of the Realm Page 7
