by Guy Antibes
“It looks like we are alone. Do you want to join me?” Pol asked.
“Thank you, My Prince, but I’ve already eaten.”
“Sit anyway. I need to talk.”
Val nodded and sat across the table from where Pol pulled out a chair. A serving maid entered the room, and Pol let her know what he wanted since the breakfast buffet had already been cleared.
“I am upset about two things,” Pol said, “my mother’s alliance and my short time left. I don’t know which is worse.”
“I will never know since I always just assume tomorrow might be my last day alive.”
Pol didn’t quite know how to take that comment. He thought a bit. “So you can’t plan out your life? No pattern to use? It seems you live a dreadful life, thinking like that.”
Val shook his head. “It not that I don’t plan ahead. There is a pattern to my life, but it could end at any time. Thinking that way makes some of what I do easier.”
“Like what?”
Val shifted in his seat and looked out the window. Pol noticed that he didn’t look him in the eye. “I’m not going to tell you. Perhaps when you are older, we might share a mug of ale in a pub somewhere, and we can trade stories, but this is not the time. You’ve got some idea, anyway.”
Pol knew enough to leave Val alone. The comment about sharing an ale seemed a soothing comment, since it seemed likely that Pol might not ever be old enough to join Val in a pub. He did have a positive thought burst in his mind.
“So living your life one day at a time, that’s it, isn’t it?” Pol said.
Val nodded.
“It doesn’t depress you, does it?”
“Not at all. I think you’re smart enough to understand this: I try to live outside of a pattern.”
That comment didn’t ring true to Pol, but perhaps there was something in that. Pol’s life included Val in his own current pattern, so Val meant something different. Perhaps his bodyguard thought about long-term patterns. Val might be thinking of living constantly in the shadows, behind the trees that most people saw from one perspective.
“I don’t think a person can live outside of patterns, but you can make yourself less discoverable in a pattern,” Pol said.
“You do understand.” Val smiled. “Don’t give up hope of living a long life.”
“But you have.”
Val shook his head. “I didn’t say that. I just don’t have entanglements that can affect my judgment.”
Now Pol understood. “So your own personal pattern is very flexible.”
That brought a grin to Val’s face. “Right. That’s probably a better way of putting it than I did. Good for you, lad. You should do the same. Your mother doesn’t really know if you’ll die young or not. People have told her that you will, but does that make your early demise a reality?”
Pol shook his head. “No, it doesn’t.” A flood of relief overcame Pol. He kept quiet as the serving girl brought in his breakfast.
Val stole a slice of bread. “It’s been a bit since I ate.” He smirked and took a bite. “You look a bit more relaxed.”
“I need to talk to Malden about my health. He knows me better than I do.”
~~~
Chapter Twenty-Seven
~
POL HAD BEEN UP AND DOWN SINCE HE HAD TALKED TO VAL at breakfast. Malden had agreed to share his midday meal with him in his chambers.
Pol knocked on Malden’s door and opened it when Malden told him to enter. Val stayed in the corridor.
“It’s better you talk to him alone, I think,” Val said.
Pol nodded and closed the door behind him.
“If this is to be a private meeting, at least let Val get some food,” Malden said.
Pol felt a bit embarrassed and opened the door. “Get something to eat, first.”
“I am glad you noticed me in your pattern,” Val said with some sarcasm.
Pol twisted his lips. “Actually, Malden did.”
“Does it matter?”
Pol shook his head and let his bodyguard in. Malden and Val exchanged a few pleasantries. Pol wondered where they had met to become such good friends. Val left Malden and Pol facing each other across the magician’s small dining table.
After being totally honest with Malden about what he had heard the previous night, including his conversation with Val. Pol finally took a bite of his lunch. He wasn’t that hungry having eaten a late breakfast, but he felt driven to talk to Malden.
Malden had a few bites before he spoke. “This business with your mother bothers you, doesn’t it?”
“What do you think?”
Malden pressed his lips together. Pol could see that Malden felt sympathy for him, but Pol wasn’t interested in sympathy. He needed some perspective, so he could rebuild his pattern, at least that was how he thought of it.
“I think Val has it right. Your mother sees you as temporarily by her side, but then she has to live with your siblings. Can you trust her? Certainly with most things. It appears she has accepted the fact that Landon will be taking over Listya. I see Grostin’s role as providing information, but your mother understands his penchant for hasty action. I don’t expect Grostin to stop attacking you. Impetuousness is part of who Grostin is.”
“What about my dying before I’m a man.”
Malden thought a bit more. “It is certainly a possibility. You must know that. You had an attack last night. The attacks won’t stop if nothing is done, but there are remedies. Perhaps you should consider going to Deftnis rather than Tesna. The Deftnis monastery has much better healers. I can’t say they will be able to make you right, but I don’t think you’ll get better here, and I lack the understanding of all the body’s patterns that their healers have.”
“You really think I might live longer than eight more years?”
Malden shook his head and took a drink of watered wine. “You can’t live your life like that, Pol. If you do, all your focus will be on some kind of morbid vigil, waiting for your body to quit. You have a lot of living to do in all of that time. What I’m saying it that your condition has a chance to get better with advanced healers. I am nothing compared to them.”
“So when shall I go?”
“You’ve changed your mind about going to a monastery?”
“If my mother is in league with my siblings, then I don’t need to protect her.”
Malden took a few more bites. “As long as your siblings live, your mother is in danger. I worry about King Colvin’s obsession with Listya and Landon. It has affected his judgment, and that means his siblings will have more latitude for mischief, not less.”
Now Pol was confused. He didn’t know if he should stay or go, but if he went, it sounded like Deftnis might be a better place. “You sent a letter to the Tesna monastery. Have you heard anything?”
“No. I don’t worry about acceptance at Deftnis. If Val is there to vouch for you, there is no question about acceptance. Don’t tell anyone about the prospects of switching monasteries. As far as anyone knows, it’s Tesna, unless I get a rejection.”
“So I may not die before I’m twenty, and my mother is not in immediate danger?”
“Nothing is certain in this world, and patterns can quickly shift on their own accord.”
Pol nodded. “I realize that, but now I don’t have to wait for my own death.”
“You should never wait for your own death. All of us have a finite time to spend, and it’s up to us to make whatever time we have count.”
“Val does it day by day.”
Malden raised his hand. “It’s something taught at Deftnis.”
“Have you been there?”
Malden looked past Pol at the wall behind him. “I taught at Deftnis for a few years when I was younger. That’s where I met Val.” He raised his hand to Pol. “Don’t ask me about what is taught there. You know as much as I want you to know, and Val won’t tell you any more than I have. Now describe how you figured out the listening spell.”
A kn
ock on the door interrupted their meal and their discussion.
“The king requests your presence, Magician Malden,” a page said.
Pol had seen the messenger boy around. He was just a bit older than Paki and had fought in the tournament. His friend had barely beaten him, Paki claimed.
Pol sighed. It looked like lunch had just ended, so he gathered Val, and they returned to his rooms where Pol lugged out the book on religions. He had another hour before he would have his session with Mistress Farthia.
~
After waiting alone for quarter of an hour, Mistress Farthia rushed into the classroom.
“Forgive me, My Prince,” she said, a bit breathlessly. “The Taridans have stepped up their incursions on the northern border, and it has the castle buzzing.”
“An invasion?” Pol said.
Farthia shrugged. “No one knows at this point, but King Colvin isn’t going to wait. He’s sending an army up to the border.”
“When will they leave?”
“Malden is shut up with the King and Banson Hisswood. He is recalling General Wellgill, but he’s a week away, so expect nothing for that long.”
“What about Imperial troops?”
Farthia laughed. “What have I told you about the way Hazett administers the Empire?”
“Loosely. He won’t intervene to stop border skirmishes, only kingdom consolidations.”
She nodded. “Right. So it’s likely that your father will send a force, to slap the Taridans’ hands. Don’t you worry, there won’t be a full-scale invasion that threatens Borstall. Now,” Farthia took a deep breath to calm herself, “what is going on in your life? You look a bit harried. Have your siblings launched another campaign against you?”
Pol shook his head. “Their campaign hasn’t stopped, but I overheard my own disturbing news.”
“Are you going to share?” she said.
“I don’t think so. Not at this time. I’ve talked to Malden and Val, and they’ve helped.”
She raised her eyebrows and looked down at her hands. “So?”
“I do have a question. What do you know about the Deftnis monastery?”
Pol learned little more than what he had picked up in his readings and from Malden. They had the same age requirement as all monasteries did, sixteen years, however the magician seemed confident about getting him in.
“Why the interest?”
“Malden said they had better healers.”
Pol picked up on that statement. Malden and Farthia had been talking about him. Should he get upset? Pol decided not to since, along with Val, they were the only adults in the castle to be trusted.
“From what I know, no one would care you’re a prince, and from what Malden has revealed, it’s not a fun place to be.”
Pol wasn’t looking for a fun place, and he knew he wasn’t prepared to live day to day like Val.
~
Ten days later, a page escorted Pol into his father’s study.
“I’m sending you north towards the Taridan border. You will be switching body guards with your mother, since Malden reminds me that her body guard has experience on the border,” his father said. “You can take your gardener friend, Pakkingail, with you.”
Pol was excited to leave the castle, but he wondered why Val wasn’t coming. Malden had distinctly said Val had helped with the last border war with Tarida.
“There is a unit leaving tomorrow afternoon. Make sure you are ready to go. I suggest you visit your mother before heading out. You’re just an observer and are not fighting. Understood?”
Pol nodded. “Are my brothers going?”
“No. Landon left this morning for South Salvan to bring back Amonna, and Grostin will stay here, by my side, learning from me.”
“You aren’t going either?”
His father lifted a corner of his mouth in something that didn’t quite resemble a smile. “My father died on that border. I’ll not do the same. You are dismissed.” King Colvin flicked a finger towards the door.
Val stayed at Pol’s side while they walked back to his rooms.
“I’m getting my mother’s bodyguard. And you are switching with her.”
“Kolli?”
“You know her?” Pol said.
“She’s a good woman, although she is too dedicated to your mother.” Val nodded. “I’ll have a word with her before you leave.”
“And that is tomorrow midday. Why don’t you come with me?”
Val shrugged. “I think Malden would like me here to help him with the King. What about your brothers?”
“Grostin stays here to learn at my father’s feet,” Pol snorted. “Landon has gone south to bring back Amonna.”
“He’ll take his time,” Val said. “I don’t have to tell you to be careful.”
“You don’t,” Pol said. “I can take Paki with me.”
“Good,” Val said. “He can watch your back when Kolli isn’t watching.”
Pol had a sinking feeling in his stomach that circumstances were getting out of his control. He had no idea what patterns would help him in a war. Malden had told him that court magicians had no place in the army, and Pol easily extended that to include fourteen-year-old apprentice magicians.
~~~
Chapter Twenty-Eight
~
KELSO HELPED POL WITH BITS AND PIECES OF ARMOR. He had used some of the items during the tourney, but Pol felt the necessity to protect his body from arrows coming from the front and the back, thinking how his grandfather had been killed. Kelso fitted Paki as well.
At least Pol had some experience spending time in the outdoors, and he tried to remember as much as he could as the columns of soldiers started out. Pol, Paki, and Kolli were relegated to the rear of the column, just in front of the supply wagons.
Kolli told them it would take ten days to reach the border, so Pol spent his time observing the patterns that the soldiers made. He constructed a simple framework of what Kolli called the logistical train and the columns of soldiers. Most of the officers rode up front, so they wouldn’t be swallowing the dust of marching soldiers.
Paki and Pol quickly followed Kolli’s instructions on how to make a dust mask to cover their mouths and noses. She joined them. Pol had to smile because the three of them looked like bandits to his eye.
When they stopped, they pitched their tents away from the other soldiers. Kolli had brought a small tent of her own, and Paki’s horse carried a tent for both boys to share.
“They aren’t treating you with any respect,” Kolli said on the second evening when everyone had stopped for the day. “The officers eat well in their own section of camp, but you are left to scrounge what you can from the mess wagons.” She looked a bit upset. “Well, there is more than one way to live while marching through your own country. Set up the tents, leave your armor behind underneath your blankets, and follow me.”
Paki gave Pol a mischievous grin, and off they rode into the woods. A half an hour later, they approached a good-sized village.
“We’ll spend the night here,” Kolli said, dismounting in front of an inn. “I’ve got money to pay for rooms. You two can share a room, and I get my own.” She grinned at both of them as they walked up the creaky wooden steps into the inn.
The buzz of the crowd quieted down as the three strangers walked in.
“Two rooms. One for my boys and one for me. Can you handle it?”
“Kolli Haverhill. It’s been awhile,” the woman innkeeper said. “You’re not married, nor are you old enough for these two.”
After a bit of shared laughter, Kolli said, “These bumbling bumpkins are apprentices to the army scouts. I was told to take good care of them, and that means tonight I’m treating them to meals and beds.”
“As long as the money is paid. You want a bath?”
Kolli looked sideways at Pol and Paki. “Just for me. I want to keep the boys smelling a bit ripe for awhile.” That got a laugh for all those listening in.
Pol was just fine no
t having to take a bath. Kolli led them to a table and sat them down. “The food is edible, but they have good ale. Want to join me?”
Paki nodded enthusiastically, but Pol knew Malden didn’t want him drinking a lot of alcohol.
“Fruit juice, if they’ve got it,” Pol said. He doubted the inn served the watered wine he was used to.
A serving maid who seemed to know Kolli brought stew, bread, a bit more stale than Pol was used to in the castle, but much softer than the rock-hard loaves they had been given to eat during the first days of their trip. Paki seemed to enjoy it.
“Not what you are used to?” Kolli said. He could detect the tease in her voice.
“I’ve had worse,” Pol said, remembering the awful bread that Siggon had insisted on when they went camping. He looked at Paki who shrugged and nodded.
The stew was better than the bread, and Pol quickly ate his fill. “Why are you helping us? Weren’t you given instructions to make our lives miserable?”
“Ah,” Kolli said. “You caught on, did you?”
Paki looked up from his meal. “Caught on to what?” He had no idea they were being mistreated on purpose.
“Did my father order this as punishment?”
She shook her head. “Grostin suggested that you could use some toughening up, and General Wellgill agreed to do it. Your father agreed as well. Don’t consider it mistreatment. In the army mistreatment is much worse than marching at the end of the columns and eating the same food as the infantry. You don’t have to dig latrines, help the cooks with menial chores, or do night watches.”
Pol hadn’t thought about any of that. He felt ashamed and misinformed at his creating a faulty pattern. He hadn’t observed enough.
“So it’s permissible to leave the army camp?”
“You are a Prince of the Realm?”
Pol nodded. “I am.”
“Then you can. Did you swear an oath to follow General Wellgill’s orders?”
“No, did you?”
Kolli laughed. “I left the army to serve your mother and now to serve you. I follow your commands.”
“Or anticipate my wishes?” Pol said.
“This time that is exactly what I did.” She looked around at the inn as the sound level began to increase. “We have to leave early tomorrow, so it’s time for bed.”
