"Hadrian hasn't shown?"
"No," Arista replied.
"We need to get going," Royce told her.
"Now? But what about Hadrian?"
"He'll have to catch up. Get your things."
Arista hesitated only a moment, and then crossed to the flour storage to gather her bags.
"Can't you even stay for dinner?" Arbor asked. "It's almost ready."
"We need to get moving, we have a—" Royce stopped as he heard the noisy approach of a horse and cart being driven fast down the road. It stopped just out front, so close they could hear the driver pull the hand-break. Dunstan came through the door a moment later.
"Hadrian's been arrested!" he announced hurriedly, and then he pointed at Royce and Arista. "The steward ordered your arrests as well."
"Their arrests?" Arbor said shocked. "But why?"
"The bailiff was wrong. It looks like Luret has more influence than he thought," Royce muttered. "Let's get the horses."
"His lordship's soldiers were just behind me as I started down the hill. They will be here in minutes," Dunstan said.
"My horse is down by the river," Etcher said. "It can carry two."
Royce was thinking quickly, calculating risk and outcome. "You take her to the rendezvous on your horse then," he told Etcher. "I'll see what I can do to help Hadrian. With any luck, we'll catch up to you. If we don't, it shouldn't matter." He looked at Arista. "From what I've heard of your contact, he will see to your safety even if he ultimately declines your offer."
"Don't worry about me." The princess rushed toward the door with her bags. "I'll be fine, just see that Hadrian is okay." Taking a bag and the princess' hand, Etcher pulled her out into the night and dodged into the shadows of the buildings.
Royce followed them out, caught hold of the eaves and climbed up on the Bakers' shake roof, where he crouched in the shadow of the chimney, listening. From the direction of the manor, Royce watched half a dozen men with torches moving fast down the main street. They stopped first at the livery then went to the Bakers.
"Where are the strangers that rode in with the old blacksmith's son?" a loud voice he had not heard before demanded.
"They left hours ago," Dunstan replied.
Royce heard a grunt and a crash followed by a scream from Arbor and the sound of furniture falling over.
"Their horses are still in the livery. We saw you race from the manor to warn them! Now where are they?"
"Leave him alone!" Arbor shouted. "They ran out when they heard you coming. We don't know where. They didn't tell us anything."
"If you're lying, you'll be arrested for treason and hanged, do you understand?"
There was a brief silence.
"Fan out in pairs. You two cover the bridge. You and you search the fields and you two start going door to door. Until further notice, all citizens of Hintindar are to remain in their homes. Arrest anyone outside. Now move!"
The men scattered out of the bakery in all directions, marked conveniently by their flaming torches, leaving Royce to watch them scurrying about. He glanced across the fields. It was dark. Etcher would have no trouble avoiding the foot search. Once they reached his horse, they would be gone. Arista was safely on her way, his job done. All he had to worry about now was Hadrian.
***
The manor house's jail was less a dungeon and more an old well. Forced to descend by a rope, Hadrian was left trapped at the bottom. He waited in silence, looking up at the stars. The rising moon cast a shaft of pale light that descended the wall, marking the slow passage of the night.
Cold spring water seeped in through the walls, leaving them damp and creating a shallow pool at the base. With his feet tiring, Hadrian eventually sat in the cold puddle. Jagged rocks hidden under the water added to his misery. In time, he was forced to stand again to fight the cold.
The moonlight was more than halfway down the wall when Hadrian heard voices and movement from above. Dark silhouettes appeared and the iron grate scraped as it slid clear. A rope lowered and Hadrian thought they had reconsidered. He stood up to take hold of it, but stopped when he saw another figure coming down.
"In ya go," someone at the top ordered and laughed, his voice echoed. "We keep all our rats down there!"
The figure was nimble and descended quickly.
"Royce?" Hadrian asked. "They—they captured you?"
The rope flew up and the grate slid back.
"More or less," he replied, glancing around. "Not much on accommodations, are they?"
"I can't believe they caught you."
"It wasn't as easy as you'd think. They aren't very bright." Royce reached out and let his fingers run over the glistening walls. "Was this just a well that went dry?"
"Hintindar doesn't have much need for a big prison." Hadrian shook his head. "So you let them capture you?"
"Ingenious don't you think?"
"Oh—brilliant."
"I figured it was the easiest way to find you." Royce shuffled his feet in the water, grimacing. "So what's your excuse? Did they come for you with an army of twenty heavily armored men?"
"They caught me sleeping."
Royce shot him a skeptical look.
"Let's just say I was put in a position where I'd have to kill people and I chose not to. This is my home, remember. I don't want to be known as a killer here."
"So it is good I didn't slit throats. I'm smarter than I thought."
"Oh yes, I can see the genius in your plan." Hadrian looked up. "How do you suggest we get out now?"
"Eventually, Luret will haul us out and hand us over to a press gang just as he threatened. We'll serve in the Imperial Army for a few days, learn what we can, and then slip away. We can report what we discover to Alric for an added bonus."
"What about Arista?"
"She's safely on her way to the rendezvous with Gaunt. Etcher arrived just before dark and I sent her with him. She'll likely stay with Gaunt, sending messages back to Melengar via runners until Alric's forces join with the Nationalists."
"And if Gaunt turns her down?"
"It's in Gaunt's best interest to see to her safety. It's not like he's going to turn her over to the Empire. She'll probably end up returning to Melengar by sea. Actually, it's better we aren't with her. If Merrick is out there, I am sure he'll be more interested in me than her. So that job is complete."
"I guess there is that to be thankful for at least."
Royce chuckled.
"What?"
"I'm just thinking about Merrick. He'll have no idea where I am now. My disappearance will drive him crazy."
Hadrian sat down.
"Isn't that water cold?" Royce asked, watching him and making an unpleasant face.
He nodded. "And the bottom has sharp rocks coated in a disgusting slime."
Royce looked up at the opening once more then gritted his teeth and slowly eased himself down across from Hadrian. "Oh yeah, real comfortable."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the breeze flutter across the grating. It made a humming noise when it blew just right. Occasionally a droplet of water would drip into the pool with a surprisingly loud plop! magnified by the stone.
"You realize that with this job over, I am officially retired."
"I assumed as much." Royce fished beneath him, withdrew a rock, and tossed it aside.
"I was thinking of staying here. Maybe Grimbald could use a hand, or Armigil. She's getting older now and probably would welcome a partner. Those barrels can be heavy and brewing beer has its perks."
Moonlight revealed Royce's face. He looked tense.
"I know you're not happy with this, but I really need a change. I'm not saying I'll stay here. I probably won't, but it's a start. I consider it practice for a peaceful life."
"And that's what you want, a peaceful life? No more dreams of glory?"
"That's all they were, Royce, just dreams. It's time I faced that and got on with my life."
Royce sighed. "I have som
ething to tell you. I should have told you a long time ago, but—I guess I was afraid you'd do something foolish." He paused. "No, that's not true either. It's just taken me awhile to see that you have the right to know."
"Know what?"
Royce looked around him. "I never thought I'd be telling you in a place like this, but I have to admit it could be a benefit that they took your weapons." He pulled out Danbury's letter.
"How do you have that?" Hadrian asked.
"From Arista."
"Didn't they take it when they grabbed you?"
"Are you kidding? I practically had to remind them to take my dagger. They don't seem too accustomed to thieves, much less ones that turn themselves in." Royce handed the note to Hadrian. "What did you think of when you read this?"
"That my father died filled with pain and regret. He believed the words of a selfish seventeen-year-old that he was a coward and wasted his life. It's bad enough I left him, but I had to paint that stain on him before leaving."
"Hadrian, I don't think this letter had anything to do with your leaving. I think it is due to your heritage. I think your father was trying to tell you something about your past."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying your father had a secret—a big secret."
"How would you know? You never met my father. You're not making any sense."
Royce sighed. "Last year in Avempartha, Esrahaddon was using a spell to find the heir."
"I remember, you told me that before."
"But I didn't tell you everything. The spell didn't find the heir exactly, but rather magical amulets worn by him and his guardian. Esrahaddon made the necklaces so he could locate the wearers and prevent other wizards from finding them. As I said, I didn't recognize the face of the heir."
"And this is important why?"
"I didn't know, at least not for certain, not really. I always thought Esra was using us. That's mainly why I never told you. I wanted to be sure it was true, that's why I asked you to come and why I led us here."
Royce paused a moment then asked, "Where did you get that necklace, the amulet you wear under your shirt?"
"I told you, my father…"
Hadrian paused, staring at Royce, his hand unconsciously rising to his neck to feel the necklace.
"I didn't recognize the heir…but I did recognize the guardian. Your father had a secret Hadrian—a big secret."
Hadrian continued to stare back at Royce. His mind flashed back to his youth, to his gray-haired father spending day after day toiling humbly on the anvil and forge making harrows and ploughshares. He recalled Danbury growling at him to clean the shop.
"No," Hadrian said. "My father was a blacksmith."
"How many blacksmiths teach their sons ancient Teshlor combat skills, most of which have been lost for centuries? Where did you get that big spadone sword you've carried on your back since I first met you? Was that your father's, too?"
He slowly nodded and felt a chill raise the hairs on his arms. He never told Royce about that. He never told anyone. He took the sword the night he left. He needed his own blade. Da often had several weapons in his shop, but taking them would cost his father money. Instead, he took the only weapon he felt his father would not miss. Da kept the spadone hidden in a small compartment under the shop's fifth floorboard. Hadrian remembered Danbury taking it out only once. It was a long time ago when his mother was still alive. He was very young and could barely remember it. His mother was asleep and he was supposed to be too, but something woke him. He crawled out of bed and found his father in the shop. Da had been drinking Armigil's ale and was sitting on the floor in the glow of the forge. In his hands, he cradled the huge two-handed sword, talking to it as if it was a person. He was crying. In seventeen years of living with the man, Hadrian only saw him cry that one time.
"I want you to do me a favor. Read this again, only this time pretend you hadn't run away. Read it as if you and your father were on great terms and that he was proud of you."
Hadrian held the parchment up to the moonlight and read it again.
Haddy,
I hope this letter will find you. It is important that you know there was a reason why you should never use the training for money or fame. I should have told you the truth, but my pain was too great. I can admit to you now I am ashamed of my life, ashamed of what I failed to do. I suppose you were right. I am a coward. I let everyone down. I hope you can forgive me, but I can never forgive myself.
Love Da
Before you were born, the year ninety-two
Lost what was precious, and that what was new.
The blink of an eye, the beat of a heart
Out went the candle, and guilt was my part.
A king and his knight, went hunting a boar
A rat and his friends, were hunting for lore.
Together they fought, till one was alive
The knight sadly wept, No king had survived.
The answers to riddles, to secrets and more
Are found in the middle of Legends and Lore.
Seek out the answer, and learn if you can
The face of regret, the life of a man.
"You realize a spadone is a knight's weapon?" Royce asked.
Hadrian nodded.
"And yours is a very old sword, isn't it?"
Hadrian nodded again.
"I would venture to guess it's about nine hundred years old. I think you are the descendent of Jerish, the Guardian of the Heir," Royce told him. "Although maybe not literally. The way I heard it, the heir has a direct bloodline but the guardian just needed to pass down his skills. The next in line didn't need to be his son, although I guess it's possible."
Hadrian stared at Royce. He did not know how to feel about this. Part of him was excited, thrilled, vindicated, and part of him was certain Royce was insane.
"And you kept this from me?" Hadrian asked, astonished.
"I didn't want to tell you until I knew for sure. I thought Esrahaddon might be playing us."
"Don't you think I would have thought of that too? What do you take me for? Have you worked with me for twelve years because you think I'm stupid? How conceited can you be? You can't trust me to make my own decisions, so you make them for me?"
"I'm telling you now, aren't I?"
"It took you a whole damn year, Royce!" Hadrian shouted at him. "Didn't you think I'd find this important? When I told you I was miserable because I felt my life lacked purpose—that I wanted a cause worth fighting for—you didn't think that protecting the heir qualified?" Hadrian shook his head in disbelief. "You stuck-up, manipulative, lying—"
"I never lied to you!"
"No, you just concealed the truth, which to me is a lie, but in your twisted little mind is a virtue!"
"I knew you were going to take it this way," Royce said in a superior tone.
"How else would you expect me to take it? Gee pal, thanks for thinking so little of me that you couldn't tell me the truth about my own life?"
"That's not the reason I didn't tell you," Royce snapped.
"You just said it was!"
"I know I did!"
"So you're lying to me again?"
"Call me a liar one more time—"
"And what? What? You going to fight me?"
"It's dark in here."
"But there's no room for you to hide. You're only a threat until I get my hands on you. I just need to grab your spindly little neck. For all your quickness, once I get a grip on you it's all over."
Without warning, cold water poured down on them. Looking up they could see silhouetted figures.
"You boys, be quiet down there!" shouted a voice. "His Excellency wants a word with you."
One head disappeared from view and another replaced it at the opening's edge.
"I am Luret, the Imperial Envoy of Her Eminence the Grand Imperial Empress Modina Novronian. Because of your involvement in escorting a member of the royal court of Melengar to Her Majesty's enemy, the Nationalist
s, the two of you are hereby charged with espionage and hitherto will be put to death by hanging in three days' time. Should, however, you wish to attempt to rescind that sentence to life in prison, I would be willing to do so under the condition that you reveal to me the whereabouts of the Princess Arista Essendon of Melengar."
Neither said a word.
"Tell me where she is, or you will be hanged as soon as the village carpenter can build us a proper gallows."
Again they were silent.
"Very well, perhaps a day or two rotting in there will change your mind." He turned away and spoke to the jailor. "No food or water. It might help to loosen their tongues, besides there's really no sense in wasting it."
They waited in silence as the figures above moved away.
"How does he know?" Hadrian whispered.
A ghastly look stole over Royce's face.
"What is it?"
"Etcher. He's the mole in the Diamond."
Royce kicked the wall causing a splash. "How could I have been so blind!? He was the one who lit the lamp on the river alerting the wherry behind us. The only reason he never thought to check the mill's sails was because it didn't matter to him. I bet he never even told Price where we were, so there would be no way for the Diamond to find us. There must be an ambush waiting at Amberton Lee, or somewhere along the way."
"But why take her there? Why not just turn Arista over to Luret?"
"I'd wager this is Merrick's game. He doesn't want some imperial clown like Luret getting the prize. She's a commodity which can be sold to the Empire, or ransomed to Melengar for a profit. If Luret grabs her he gets nothing,"
"So why tell Luret about us at all?"
"Insurance. With the manor officials after us, we'd be pressed for time and wouldn't pause to question Etcher's story. I'm sure it was only to hasten our departure and have us unprepared, but it turned out even better because you were captured and I decided to stay behind to help you."
"And you sent Arista off alone with Etcher."
"She's on her way to Merrick, or Guy, or both. Maybe they'll keep her and demand Alric surrender Medford. He won't, of course. Pickering won't let him."
Nyphron Rising Page 17
