Once the story was finished, the regent said, “Adrias, you’re very quiet. Were the killings upsetting to you?”
Adrias shook his head. “Not really.”
“Oh no? And why is that?”
Adrias shrugged. “They were bad men. They deserved to die.”
Aldrick interrupted. “Now son, no one deserves to die. It was an unfortunate event that I would have avoided if I could.” Trying to change the subject, he added, “Are you hungry?”
Adrias nodded with enthusiasm just as the dining room doors opened. Jarvus reentered, followed by a dozen servants carrying tray after tray of food and drink. Aldrick stared as they quickly arranged the laden platters around the table and started filling glasses with water and his favorite drink, Asturian pomegranate wine.
“What’s all this?” Aldrick said, staring at the amazing bounty on the table.
“What does it look like?” replied the regent, rubbing his hands together. “Let's eat!”
Steaming platters held a variety of meats, including pork roast, salted beef and two whole crisp, golden brown chickens; all of which were a rare delicacy. Another platter had baked fish swimming in a delicious looking sauce, and yet others held piles of apples, grapes, cherries and other fruit.
Steaming bowls of turnips, carrots, peas, onions and potatoes were bathed in melted butter, and the delicious smell of loaves of freshly baked bread permeated the room.
Aldrick and his family had chosen to live simple lives at their home in the lake town of Ubarra, and were quite overwhelmed by such extravagant opulence.
“What?” Brodan mumbled around a mouth full of chicken. “Dig in!”
Aldrick tried to take everything in. “How many more people are you expecting?”
Brodan shoveled a spoonful of peas into his mouth, barely chewing before he swallowed. “What do you mean? We're all here. Hurry, it’s getting cold!”
Adrias took a plate from a servant and began to eat with a big smile on his face. Jelénna took her plate and started as well, although not quite with the same level of enthusiasm that Adrias had mustered. Aldrick knew that neither of them could have ever seen this much food at one time.
Aldrick pointed to the mound of food. “Brodan, this much food could feed half the people in the camps outside the city. From some of the squalor we saw, there are sure to be hungry people out there!”
Still confused, Brodan paused before taking a huge bite of roast. “Aldrick, they are commoners; peasants one and all. That’s how they live, they wouldn’t know any other way.”
Brodan took another bite and chewed the delicious meat with a satisfied look on his face.
A passing cloud blocked the late afternoon sunlight streaming in through the upper side windows, and the room darkened noticeably. Aldrick was offended, but was unable to stop his stomach from grumbling. Taking a plate from a servant, he took a bite of chicken.
“The four of us certainly don’t need this much food. Don’t abuse your power as regent.”
Brodan paused mid-sip and lowered his glass, dark red wine trailing down his unshaven chin. He set his glass down on the table, and there was a dangerous glint in his eyes.
“Because we have been friends for so long I’m going to overlook that last remark Aldrick, but I would suggest you refrain from repeating it.”
Aldrick forced a smile. ”I appreciate the warm welcome. I just think there is a lot more food here than we could possibly eat. What’s next? A vomitorium?”
Brodan glared for a moment. Sunlight returned to the hall, and Brodan shook his head and smiled.
Raising his wine glass as if nothing had happened, the regent said, “Let’s toast the upcoming Tournament of the King. May the casualties be few, and may the best man win!” Winking at Aldrick, he added, “As long as that man is me!”
Tipping his glass, Brodan drained the remaining wine.
Aldrick took a sip from his own glass, savoring the taste. Extravagant or not, he did love a good pomegranate wine, and not surprisingly this vintage was particularly good.
He decided to change the subject. “How is my father? I hope his advice is as good as always?”
Brodan nodded while chewing on a piece of warm bread.
“Of course,” he mumbled between bites. “Your father is my most knowledgeable advisor. I don’t consult with him daily by any means, but he is valuable, I’m sure.”
Brodan mumbled something else while tearing meat off a bone, which Aldrick could not understand.
Jelénna took a sip of water. “I would love to see your father, Aldrick. Adrias and I haven’t seen him in a long time.”
Aldrick nodded. “I’m sure he’s dying to see both of you as well.”
“I should have invited him to dinner,” Brodan said, sounding almost guilty. “I was feeling selfish and wanted you all to myself for once. I’ll be busy preparing for the Tournament after this, and we won’t have much time together. I assume you’ll be staying until after the coronation.”
Aldrick nodded, and swallowed. “Of course. I have to be here when my oldest friend becomes king.”
Brodan smiled, a mixture of conceit and genuine friendship. “I appreciate your confidence, Aldrick. It’s good to have you by my side again.”
Aldrick held his hands out in a placating gesture. “I don’t know of anyone more qualified than you.”
Brodan nodded, basking in the implied compliment.
“Right you are, my friend. No noble in Asturia will be a match for me.”
Aldrick grabbed a dinner roll. “Don’t forget about the surprise entrants, Brodan. Even a common man, with the sponsorship of a noble family, can compete. Don’t get overconfident, and let a peasant become king.”
Brodan laughed loudly at the thought. “A commoner might pass the physical tests, but he couldn’t possibly possess the skill, intellect or knowledge of Asturian history to actually win the Tournament.”
Aldrick took a sip of his wine. “It would be rare, but not impossible.”
Brodan drained yet another glass of wine. He swayed a little in his chair, and there was a hint of a glaze in his eyes. “That is not going to happen.”
Aldrick smiled. “For your sake, I hope you’re right.” He pushed back his empty plate and turned to Jelénna. “We should go see my father before it gets too late.”
Brodan gestured and nodded, but his eyes were heavy.
When he said nothing else, Aldrick continued. “Don’t forget to sharpen your skills, Brodan. The contests are grueling, and you’ll need to be in top shape.”
Brodan laughed. “No need to tell me, I heard enough stories from my father. Don’t worry, the nobles are buffoons, and none of them stand a chance against me. I could best the lot of them with one hand tied behind my back, wouldn’t you say Jarvus?”
Jarvus had remained quietly on one side of the room. He bowed and with a completely straight face said, “You are not unlike a God, Your Highness.”
Aldrick smirked, but Brodan, having completely missed the thick layer of sarcasm in the response, simply nodded.
“That I am Jarvus, that I am.”
Chapter 6
Before long, Aldrick managed to extricate himself and his family from the dining hall, leaving Brodan unconscious from an overindulgence of food and wine. Jarvus once more led them through the palace hallways, this time towards the library.
Aldrick had long since lost track of the turns, when they abruptly arrived back at the painting of Sargon the Destroyer. Unconsciously, he slowed to take it in again. Beyond the vivid portrayal of gruesome death and destruction, there was something visceral about this painting that seemed to call out to him.
Pausing in front of the massive work of art, Aldrick felt his gaze drawn to the figure of Sargon. The rest of the hall faded as he stared into the eyes of the magician. He felt as if he was being drawn into the painting. Those eyes seemed to stare back at him from the canvas, and the effect was hypnotic.
A sudden cough wrenched him back ou
t of the image, and Aldrick blinked and rubbed his eyes. Jarvus stood beside him scowling, one eyebrow raised inquisitively.
“Don’t worry Jarvus, we aren’t stopping.”
“Thank the All Father,” Jarvus sighed. He strode off towards the library without so much as a glance to see if they followed.
Aldrick could not recall having had such an intense experience viewing the painting before. He was so mesmerized by the lingering image of that penetrating gaze as they walked, he had soon lost track of their whereabouts again.
Jelénna put her arm through his, interrupting his musings. “Brodan was in rare form today. I’m telling you dear, he seems even more out of touch than I remember.”
Aldrick considered his answer. “I agree, but I think it’s understandable considering his father’s recent unexpected death and the responsibility of governing the country being suddenly thrust upon him. Add to that the stress of preparing for the Tournament, and it’s no wonder he’s on edge.”
Jelénna nodded as they arrived at the entrance to the library. Jarvus swung open the large wooden door with a creak and ushered them inside.
Aldrick was immediately aware of the musty smell of paper, leather and dust inherent to any large collection of old books and scrolls. Descending a long staircase, he took a deep breath and savored the permeating aroma that perhaps only he and his father could appreciate. Enjoying the best library in Asturia would be one small consolation, should Brodan choose him as an advisor once he had won the Tournament.
If Brodan were crowned king, he would be required to appoint his official advisors. Many times in the past Brodan had threatened to choose Aldrick when that day came, perhaps as a replacement for his father Tiberius. Since then, Aldrick had forgone his nobility and moved to Ubarra with Jelénna, and no longer believed he would welcome an advisor position for Brodan. He was comfortable in Ubarra, and thought it unlikely that she would agree to move back to Akkadia. Even so, the library brought back wonderful memories.
Jarvus continued to guide them towards the seating area, located in the front of the library. The lure of aisle after aisle of old books and scrolls caught his attention, and Aldrick was sorely tempted to stop for a quick look at one particular historical section.
Untouched for ages, the section consisted entirely of stacks of ancient scrolls, some still tightly rolled and others loose after centuries of storage.
Aldrick loved history, but he wanted to see his father. Besides, Jarvus would not appreciate another unscheduled stop. And so he continued, contenting himself with the sights and smells of old scrolls, and cloth and leather-bound books. Nearly everything he passed was covered in a thick layer of dust.
The oldest and rarest texts known consisted mostly of ancient clay tablets and scrolls of papyrus inscribed with pictograms and the unintelligible markings of long dead languages. Whatever history and stories from those ancient civilizations was on those tablets was lost for all time, since no one living could read them.
Most of these were stored in the King’s Sanctum, a discrete and well-guarded section of the great Akkadian Library. As the name implied, this area was only accessible to the King of Asturia and his most trusted advisors.
It was rumored that stored within the King’s Sanctum were incredibly old artifacts—packed in straw for protection—whose origins were now long forgotten. The fascinating mysteries that lay unsolved in that forbidden section enticed his imagination, but since Aldrick had no interest in competing in the Tournament or becoming king, it was unlikely he would ever discover any of them.
He resolved to inquire about the boundaries of being an advisor to the king; if being an advisor to Brodan could get him inside the King’s Sanctum, it might be worth moving back to Akkadia. He could worry about convincing Jelénna later.
The back section of the library where the literature was stored was built into the bedrock in one of the lowest sections of the palace, to keep conditions as cool and dry as possible. His attention was pulled back to the present as they ascended the stairs into the front seating area, which had been set aside for people to study, read and relax.
Several simple wooden tables and comfortable chairs were arranged about in front of a massive stone fireplace. Bordering and guarding the lintel were large carved stone figures of seated lions, which managed to look both stately and menacing at the same time. A massive mantle above the fireplace held an eclectic collection of objects, including old vases painted with intricate designs, several small statues of both wood and stone, and a few small wooden contraptions, one with a swinging pendulum. Although the sun had not yet set, a small fire crackled in the fireplace to ward off the chill of the cavernous stone library.
Seated at a table near the fireplace was an older man with close cropped white hair and a short white beard. He had a kindly face and wore simple clean robes. He was lighting a long dark wooden pipe when they appeared at the top of the staircase.
“Aldrick,” the man smiled when he saw them. “It’s about time you arrived. What kept you?”
“Hello father.”
“Grandfather!” Adrias shouted and ran over to embrace him.
“Adrias my boy, look at you! My, how you’ve grown.” Beaming, the old man happily embraced the boy. Putting his pipe down, Tiberius stood and hugged Jelénna. “My dear, how are you?”
“I’m fine Tiberius, all things considered,” Jelénna sighed.
Tiberius raised an eyebrow, looking first at her then at Aldrick. “All things considered?”
“We were attacked!” Adrias blurted out again. Tugging his grandfather’s robe he added in excited voice, “Father killed some bad men!”
Startled, Tiberius turned to Aldrick. “Are you alright? I have not heard reports of bandits on the road from Ubarra in many, many Summers.”
“These were no bandits,” Aldrick clarified. “They were professional assassins. I believe they were a Triad.”
“A Triad? By the All Father’s beard, are you sure? No Triad has been seen since the Great War.”
Aldrick nodded. “I know, but the evidence is strong.”
“You must tell me everything. Come, sit down and relax.” Tiberius turned to Jarvus who stood off to one side and wrinkled his nose. “Oh Jarvus, there you are. Would you bring us some tea?”
Jarvus stood for a moment formulating a retort as Tiberius sat down with his family, but seeing he no longer had an audience chose to cough once before retreating.
“You and Jarvus still don’t get along?” Aldrick inquired with a hint of a smile.
“Not really,” Tiberius chuckled. “He is efficient and scrupulous, and he’s been in the palace longer than the All Father himself, but he’s just as irritating as ever.”
Relighting his pipe with a long splinter from the fire, Tiberius listened while Aldrick described the events of the day before. Jelénna was quiet as he spoke, but tears glistened in her eyes.
Tiberius interrupted for clarification. “Do you mean to tell me your attackers were children?”
Aldrick shook his head. “No, they were grown men; assassins who only appeared to be children through some trick of illusion.”
“It was not until Aldrick dispatched them that the spell broke,” Jelénna spoke up. “At first I thought Aldrick had lost his mind, attacking helpless children.” She put a hand on his arm in a silent but heartfelt apology.
"A spell, or more likely a trick of some kind,” Aldrick said.
Tiberius nodded thoughtfully. “I cannot imagine what, but please continue.”
Aldrick finished his story, and then retrieved the items he had discovered, laying them out on the table. “I found these on her attacker.”
Tiberius was clearly shaken by the story, but looked over the items on the table. He picked up the list of names.
“I know most of these men, in fact this appears to be a list of all the nobles of Asturia.” He scanned down the page reading through the names. “Now this is interesting. Have you read this?”
&nbs
p; “No, not yet.”
Tiberius pointed to the parchment. “Your name is listed here below mine and Brodan’s, but yours is crossed off.”
“I can only imagine what that means...”
Tiberius continued reading until his eyes widened in surprise. “Several names are crossed off, but look at this one!”
Tiberius turned the parchment. Aldrick was shocked to see the name to which his father pointed. Aldrick could not believe the implications of what he was seeing, and read it again.
The Key of Creation: Book 01 - Rise of the Destroyer Page 5
