The Children of the White Lions: Volume 02 - Prophecy

by R. T. Kaelin

  Broedi called back for everyone to remain calm, they were about to ride through the protective veil hiding the enclave. Moments later, a stone castle suddenly appeared on the cliff’s edge, a village larger than Yellow Mud sitting outside its walls.

  They rode through the small town of Claw, gathering a large following as people rushed from their homes and shops to stare. Upon reaching the courtyard of the castle, over five hundred individuals trailed them. Men and women made up most of the crowd, but Kenders spotted a number of hillmen as well, easily recognizable as they stood a full foot above the tallest man in the crowd. Much to Nundle’s disappointment, there were no tombles.

  Once the crowd quieted, the baroness in charge of the enclave, Lady Vivienne, made a short speech, warning that the time for which they had been preparing was at hand. The God of Chaos was on the move in the Borderlands. The time was near for the Manes to reveal themselves to the duchies and lead the fight to stop the Cabal. Facing Nikalys and Kenders, she announced that the Progeny had returned.

  The courtyard erupted into loud, raucous cheering.

  Even now, a full turn later, she swore she could hear the joyous roars echoing about the courtyard. It had terrified her seeing how much faith these people put into her and Nikalys. It still did today, more so, perhaps.

  When Nikalys suddenly spoke, breaking the silence, Kenders started. She had been lost in the memory.

  “Can’t say I’ve ever seen him out of the castle.”

  Glancing up, she saw Nikalys eyeing the far side of the courtyard.

  Following his gaze, Kenders spotted a skinny man hurrying across the gravel, his thin blond hair whipping wildly in the wind. He was dressed in a simple blue tunic, tan breeches, and leather sandals. Kenders recognized him immediately as Lady Vivienne’s attendant.

  “He must be freezing,” said Sergeant Trell.

  Sure enough, the man gripped his arms about himself, trying to stave back the biting cold of the wind.

  Kenders wondered aloud, “Why is he out of Lady Vivienne’s offices?”

  Nobody hazarded a guess. The three of them sat, quiet and motionless, watching as the man broke into a hurried, flailing run. He was quite anxious to reach the calmer air on this side of the Weave.

  Nikalys uttered, “Sergeant, I’ll bet you a copper ducat he trips and falls.”

  “Accepted,” replied the soldier with a smile.

  The aide passed through the magical barrier and stopped. He rubbed his eyes and went about fixing his mussed hair before heading into the soldiers’ midst.

  “You owe me a copper, son.”

  Nikalys shrugged and grinned.

  “So I do…”

  The attendant angled straight to where Jak and Zecus sat, taking a rest from their practice. He stopped before the pair and started to speak to them. Jak and Zecus stayed seated, arms draped over their legs, and stared up at the man curiously.

  “I wonder what he wants with them,” mused Kenders.

  The man appeared most interested in speaking with Zecus, but Jak continued to interject himself, much to the aide’s apparent frustration.

  Sergeant Trell sighed and said, “Excuse me, but I’m going to see what this is about. The commander does not like it when Lady Vivienne interrupts our drills.”

  He rose from the bench and strode toward Jak, Zecus, and the aide. When he arrived, the aide threw his arms up in the air and began talking to the sergeant directly, gesturing at the Borderlander.

  Keeping her eyes on the exchange, Kenders asked, “Have you noticed Lady Vivienne asserting herself since Broedi left?”

  “Impossible not to,” muttered Nikalys. He did not sound pleased.

  Kenders had expected that Broedi, as the lone White Lion currently with the Manes, would be in charge here at the enclave. However, it seemed authority rested mostly with Lady Vivienne, the Baroness of Argolles. She deferred to Broedi publically but now that the hillman was on his way to the Celestial Empire with Nundle, Lady Vivienne governed the enclave as though it were a part of her barony.

  After a few minutes of discussion, the aide turned toward the direction from which he came and began to walk. Zecus stood, gathered his things, and, after a pat on the back from Sergeant Trell, followed the man across the yard.

  Kenders glanced at Nikalys.

  “What does he—what does she want with Zecus?”

  Nikalys shook his head, replying, “I don’t know…” He sounded as bewildered as she felt.

  As Zecus strode across the courtyard, he glanced over to where Nikalys and Kenders sat. His eyes locked with hers and he gave her a quick smile. Her heart skipped a beat.

  His smile widened a bit as he turned and broke into a jog, chasing after the aide. As she watched him go, she realized she had not even smiled back.

  “Zecus is a good man, Kenders. You could do a great deal worse than him, but you won’t do much better.”

  She looked at her brother to find him staring at her with a kind, if measured, expression. She was surprised. Her brothers had always been a tad overprotective with her when it came to boys. Once, when she had confided in them that she liked a particular young man in Yellow Mud, they had carried the boy to Lake Hawthorne and tossed him in.

  Unsure what to say in response, she kept quiet and turned back in time to see Zecus disappear through a set of tall ebonwood doors.

  Nikalys asked gently, “Have you spoken with him at all?”

  Kenders shook her head quickly.

  “Oh, Gods, no.”

  The thought terrified her.

  “You should,” said Nikalys.

  Kenders huffed and said, “Why? With whatever is coming, I doubt I’ll have time for…” She trailed off and dropped her head to stare at her dress, unsure how to end her thought. “I won’t have time for him.”

  She felt Nikalys’ silent gaze on her but did not look up until she heard the scuffle of boots on gravel. Lifting her chin, she spotted Sergeant Trell returning to the bench with Jak in tow. Neither man looked happy. As they neared, Jak’s voice emerged from the clanging of swords echoing through the yard.

  “—she can’t just make decisions without at least telling us her reasons. Without Broedi here, we never know what is happening.” Looking up, Jak gestured at Nikalys and Kenders. “They’re the Progeny, right? They should know what’s going on.”

  Nikalys sat forward and asked, “And what is going on?”

  Jak and the sergeant halted a few paces from the bench. Now that her eldest brother was closer, she could see the patches of dark whiskers wandering down from his sideburns and coating his chin, but leaving his cheeks bare. It looked the same as it had two weeks past.

  With a deep frown on his face, Jak said, “That parchment weasel saunters up to us and says”—he shifted to mimic the proper, clipped tone of the aide—“‘The Lady Vivienne requires your presence at once, Mr. Alsher. Please bathe and dress appropriately before attending to her.’”

  Kenders asked, “What does she want with him?”

  The baroness had paid no attention to the Borderlander since arriving at the enclave.

  Jak shrugged and said, “I asked, of course, but the man refused to answer any of my questions. He just kept saying, ‘The baroness requires him, that is all you need to know,’ over and over. Gods, she is so blasted arrogant!”

  The first time they had met Lady Vivienne, she had made a rather insensitive comment about the sacrifice their parents had made to raise them. Jak carried a grudge still.

  Staring across the courtyard to the doors, he said, “Zecus had no idea what was happening, but is—of course—too polite to tell the ‘Lady’ what she can do with her request.” With a nod at Sergeant Trell, Jak added, “The aide would not even tell Sergeant Trell.”

  Kenders glanced at the quiet soldier. He had yet to say a word since returning and was staring blankly at the stone wall behind her, a frown on his face. Something was bothering him.

  “Sergeant?”

  He pressed h
is lips together and peered down at her.

  “Tomorrow is the first of the Turn of Luraana.”

  It was a statement, not a question, almost as if he were thinking aloud. He was right, of course, today was Chalchalu’s Day of Leisure—a small feast was planned for later in the commons to honor the God of Wealth—meaning tomorrow was the first of a new turn.

  “And that means what?” prompted Jak.

  Sergeant Trell turned his head to stare at Jak.

  “How would you like to go to Freehaven?”

  Jak’s eyes widened.

  “Pardon?”

  “Freehaven, son,” said Sergeant Trell. “Would you like to go?”

  Jak blinked once and replied, “Um…sure, I suppose…wait, what?” His earlier irritation was gone, replaced now by open confusion.

  “The baroness wishes to take Zecus with her to Freehaven tomorrow,” said Sergeant Trell with confidence. “And I intend to convince her that you and I should go along.”

  Nikalys lifted a hand and stated the obvious.

  “Pardon me, but the capital is hundreds of miles from here. It would take a few turns to get there overland. Weeks, still, if she goes by sea.”

  A natural harbor rested at the bottom of the bluffs large enough for a pair of ships to find protection from the strong squalls that gave the island its name. One ship resided there currently, however, although no one at sea could see it. The Weave protecting the enclave extended to the harbor, making it appear to be a treacherous group of sharp rocks jutting from the sea.

  Sergeant Trell nodded, agreeing with Nikalys’ assessment.

  “Yes, it would. However, she does not intend to travel by horse or ship.”

  Kenders understood in an instant.

  “A port?”

  Sergeant Trell glanced at her and nodded.

  “I believe so.”

  Shaking her head, Kenders said, “But she can’t. We have no Void mages here.”

  Nundle could touch Void, but he was gone. Moreover, he had never been to Freehaven, so he could not Weave a port to the location anyway.

  Sergeant Trell said, “True, but that will not be an issue.” The man was wholly confident.

  With a quizzical tilt of her head, Kenders asked, “What aren’t you telling us?”

  The soldier looked at them apologetically and said, “Broedi shared a few things with me before he left. He made me promise to keep silent until necessary.”

  Jak tilted his head back and stared into the uniformly gray sky. “He’s not even here and he’s keeping secrets from us.” Dropping his head, he asked, “Care to share, Sergeant?”

  “I would not be a very good keeper of secrets if I told you, now would I?” said Sergeant Trell with a smile. “Suffice it to say that he has everyone’s best interests in mind.”

  “Can you at least tell us why Lady Vivienne wants to go to Freehaven?” asked Nikalys.

  Sergeant Trell paused a moment, shrugged his shoulders, and said, “I suppose so. On the first of every turn, citizens of the duchies are allowed to bring petitions directly before the First Council. Broedi confided in me that Lady Vivienne would most likely attend.”

  “But why take Zecus?” asked Kenders.

  The sergeant glanced at her and frowned.

  “Sorry, but Broedi asked me to keep that part quiet.”

  Kenders said stubbornly, “Fine. Keep your secrets. But, I’m going, too.”

  Nikalys, Jak, and Sergeant Trell all spoke simultaneously, saying firmly, “No.”

  Peering from face to face, she asked, “Why not?”

  “The city has too many eyes,” answered the sergeant. “It is much too dangerous for you.” He glanced at Nikalys. “To be clear, that goes for you, too.”

  Nikalys nodded, adding, “I figured as much, Sergeant.” He looked at Kenders. “Surely the God of Chaos knows about Jhaell’s failure now. We don’t know where he has more agents. The enclave is the only safe place for you and me now.”

  Kenders frowned. They were right.

  Looking to Sergeant Trell, she asked, “Why does Jak get to go, then?”

  The sergeant said, “Since you cannot go, Broedi suggested I take Jak to be your eyes and ears. He does not trust that Lady Vivienne would tell you everything.”

  With a light chuckle, Jak said, “Broedi is worried about too many secrets? That’s a show.”

  Sergeant Trell shrugged.

  “I am the messenger, Jak. That is all.”

  Nikalys stood from the bench and stretched, saying, “Ketus with you, Sergeant. You still must convince Lady Vivienne to allow you to come.”

  “True,” replied Sergeant Trell. “But, again, that will not be a problem.”

  “Another one of Broedi’s secrets?” asked Kenders.

  Sergeant Trell raised his eyebrows and gave the trio a sly, silent smile. Turning to face Jak, he said, “Drills are over for you today. Go get cleaned up and wait in your room. I’m going to speak to the baroness now.” Facing Kenders and Nikalys, he gave a short, polite nod. “Good memories behind.” Spinning on his heel, he strode purposefully toward the dual doors where Zecus had disappeared.

  Jak watched the soldier for a few moments before glancing at his siblings and saying, “If you will excuse me, I must go take a bath.” He turned and headed toward the doors Kenders had used to come to the courtyard.

  Nikalys called after him, “I want stories, Jak!”

  Their brother lifted an arm in the air and waved without turning around.

  Nikalys chuckled and began striding off to where the soldiers were still practicing.

  Staring after him, Kenders asked, “Where are you going?”

  Pointing to the Manes and Sentinels, he said, “I saw a new thrust used by Wil that I want to try.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll see you in the commons for midday meal.”

  As Kenders watched her brothers walk in opposite directions, she suddenly felt very alone, sitting on the bench all by herself.

  Chapter 4: Chamber

  1st of the Turn of Luraana, 4999

  The stiff, upturned collar itched Jak’s neck something fierce.

  He reached up, stuck a finger between neck and shirt, and began to scratch incessantly. A moment later, he felt Lady Vivienne’s eyes on him, glaring. Turning his head slightly, he glanced past Sergeant Trell and confirmed the baroness was indeed staring, silently urging him to quit. The sergeant was looking at him as well, amused by Jak’s persistent battle with his court finery. Giving one last diffident scratch, Jak pulled his finger from the collar and grasped his hands together, plopping them in his lap. A heavy sigh slipped from him as he stared about the cavernous council chamber.

  He and the others sat in the balcony of the horseshoe-shaped room, perched twenty feet above the tan and white marble floor below. A great dome swept overhead, its peak another eighty feet high. A colorful mural covered the ceiling, filled with scenes of ancient battles and portraits of rulers who were long dead. Jak was mostly interested in how the artists ever managed to paint the ceiling.

  Dropping his gaze, Jak peered over the oaken railing to the floor below. To his left, a long, wooden table waited at the head of the chamber with ten ornately carved chairs lining one side. Each seat was arranged to face the open floor and the fourteen bare benches to his right. Jak was sure there were fourteen. He had counted them five times.

  Dozens of clerks and other servants hustled about the floor, intent on performing one task or another. It reminded Jak of watching ants scurry about an anthill. Occasionally, one clerk would halt another and hand over a parchment or scroll. Then the pair would look it over together for a while, speaking in hushed tones. Jak briefly wondered what was they were doing or discussing before realizing he did not much care.

  Lifting his gaze, he scanned the balcony level. Black marble columns alternated with large, arched windows open to the outside. A pleasant breeze drifted into the chamber, carrying with it the warm, moist smell of the salty sea. The distant calls o
f some sort of bird floated in on the wind, mingling with the low hum of quiet conversation and soft rustling of clothes.

  The finery worn by council attendees was astonishing. Jak had never seen such elegance and expense. Women’s dresses were elaborate concoctions of soft, muted colors with large, puffy shoulders and tapered arms. The attire worn by men also favored fashion over function, resulting in such horrid things as stiff, incredibly restrictive collars that choked their wearers.

  Jak reached up again, planning to give his neck a satisfying scratch when Zecus leaned over and whispered, “The baroness is watching.”

  Shooting a quick glance past Sergeant Trell, he found Lady Vivienne indeed glaring at him, almost daring him to pick at his collar.

  Jak dropped his hand, shifted in his seat, and turned away from the noblewoman. Keeping his voice low, he muttered in exasperation, “Why do we have to wear these blasted things anyway?”

  A small smile crept over Zecus’ face.

  “A snake does not worry about boots.”

  Jak stared at his friend, confused.

  “Say again?”

  “Words from my father,” replied Zecus. “It means ‘worry about what is important,’ I doubt your collar is worthy of your ire.”

  Jak frowned. Zecus was right.

  “Am I permitted to worry about why we are here?”

  Zecus nodded, muttering, “I am.”

  Lady Vivienne had yet to reveal the purpose of their visit to the First Council proceedings despite persistent questioning by Jak, both last night and this morning. The baroness had ignored every inquiry made.

  Eyeing Zecus, Jak asked, “You are sure you don’t know why she wanted you here?”

  The Borderlander hesitated briefly before replying.

  “I do not believe so.”

  Jak stared closely at his friend, curious at the choice of words.

  “That’s not a ‘no.’”

  Zecus gave him a sidelong look before shaking his head.

  “I do not wish to give voice to a hope that may be false.”

  Physically and mentally shrugging, Jak let the issue drop. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and waited for something to happen. As he sat there, a tiny smile of wonder graced his lips. He, Jak Isaac of Yellow Mud, was in the Oaken Duchies’ capital, sitting in the Council House, surrounded by nobles. A disbelieving chuckle slipped from his lips.