The Rise of the Wrym Lord

by Wayne Thomas Batson

  Antoinette winced at that image.

  “Your herald will raise a flag the moment you pass the three rings. A red flag if you miss a ring. A green flag if you get all three. The first herald to raise the green flag marks one of you the winner.”

  “I only get one try?” Antoinette protested.

  “You told me you could ride,” Kaliam replied.

  “Yes, but I’m no seasoned unicorn rider. Sir Tal, he’s probably done this before.”

  “Many times,” Kaliam said with a laugh. “But Tal is much better with a blade or a bow than he is on a unicorn. I would say that you are well matched for this event. One try only.”

  Antoinette frowned.

  “Riders, stand you ready!” Kaliam yelled. He strode quickly to a raised platform that stood behind the heralds. It was exactly in the middle so that both riders could see him.

  Rael seemed to sense the competition, and she tensed like a compressed spring. Antoinette ran through everything she remembered from years of riding. Just subtle pressure from the legs or a slackening of the reins had definite meaning for a horse. Antoinette just hoped her commands had the same meaning for a unicorn.

  “Riders, stand you ready?!” Kaliam bellowed from the dais.

  Antoinette saw the other knight lift an arm in salute. She swallowed and did the same.

  Kaliam held a large blue flag aloft.

  “C’mon, Rael, we can do this,” Antoinette said. She brushed the unicorn’s mane once and grasped the reins. She looked at the golden rings and then back at Kaliam’s blue flag.

  The flag fell.

  Antoinette kicked gently with her heels, and Rael responded by launching forward. The force of the movement overwhelmed Antoinette and she almost fell. But Rael adjusted her gait to allow her rider to regain her seat.

  “Thanks!” Antoinette yelled. “Now go!” Rael surged forward even faster than before. It was more speed than Antoinette had ever experienced on a horse. The golden rings were just ahead. But Tal looked like he was going to reach his first.

  “Stop staring at him,” she told herself. “Focus on the objective! Focus on the objective!”

  Rael raced forward. Antoinette pulled gently on the left rein, and the unicorn leaned to the left beside the rail. Antoinette leaned forward. Her armor bounced with the unicorn’s thunderous gallop. The world was zooming by as they quickly closed in on the first ring.

  Suddenly, Antoinette panicked. She didn’t know how to ask the unicorn to lower its head so that it could spear the ring. She’d never had to command a horse to do such a thing. The ring was there, and there was no time to think. “Rael!” Antoinette yelled.

  The second ring appeared a split second later. Then, the third. Rael suddenly slowed to a trot, and then came to a stop.

  Antoinette brushed her wispy red hair out of her face and looked up. And swaying on Rael’s white horn were three golden rings. “You did it, Rael!” Antoinette said, hugging the mare’s velvety neck. “You got them!”

  Antoinette pulled gently on the reins and wheeled Rael around. She rode toward the center of the arena and looked at the heralds. They both had their green flag raised high.

  Antoinette looked at Kaliam. Tal came riding up as well.

  “Congratulations are awarded to Tal!” Kaliam said. “For his flag rose first!”

  Antoinette felt as if she had been kicked in the stomach. All her dreams of adventure in The Realm, her desire to serve Alleble as a knight, her errand for Aidan—it all swirled and vanished.

  “Not so, m’lord!” came a deep, rhythmic voice Antoinette had not heard before. Antoinette looked up as Sir Tal approached. He had removed his helmet, and great locks of dark braided hair fell about his shoulders. His eyes were black and piercing beneath heavy bristling brows. He wore a thick mustache that tapered at the ends to a slight curl and a little inverted triangle of whiskers below his bottom lip. He reminded Antoinette of a good-natured pirate.

  “I love to win more than any,” he continued. “But I would rather be raked over hot coals than to be named the winner when victory was not earned.”

  Antoinette looked from Tal to Kaliam and back.

  “My herald, it would seem,” said Tal, “is in need of an eyeglass.”

  He gestured toward the ivory horn of his unicorn. Antoinette’s heart leaped, for there were only two golden rings dangling from Tal’s unicorn.

  “I had a feeling I’d missed that first one.” Tal laughed. “I looked up only for a moment to see where Antoinette was, but it seems that moment cost me the victory. Please tell me, m’lady, that this was not your first joust.”

  Antoinette hesitated. “Um . . . actually, it was.”

  “Not again!” Tal roared in mock anger. “First, Sir Aidan shows up and pulls off a moulinet in three days—a feat that took me three years to master! And now I am bested by Antoinette in the joust!”

  “I’ve ridden horses for years, though,” Antoinette said. “So I’m not a rookie.”

  “That is precious little consolation,” Tal said, and he laughed. “But I say well-met to thee, m’lady. And should the King will it to be so, I will gladly ride by your side into battle!”

  “Well, one thing is clear, Tal,” Kaliam said with a wink, “your way with words is better than your riding ability. So therefore, Antoinette, I declare you the winner!”

  The crowd roared its approval. Antoinette ruffled Rael’s mane. “You hear that? We won!” She looked into the first row of the stands, and there was Aelic. He smiled and nodded his head just slightly. Antoinette smiled and nodded back, trying to will herself not to blush.

  “Congratulations again, Antoinette,” said Kaliam. “You have passed the first two tests. But one task still remains. It may prove to be the most difficult for you, for it is a very personal test. And from it you may learn more than you wished to know.” Antoinette gave him a puzzled look.

  Later, as Kaliam said good night to Antoinette, he tried to smile encouragingly, though, in truth, he was torn. The Library of Light had had very little mention about Antoinette’s visions, but what little there was fed Kaliam’s suspicions and left him with inescapable dread. For if Antoinette succeeded in the third test, she would journey to Yewland. To what end? Kaliam wondered. And if she failed, she would return to earth, and her life might be spared. But at what cost to The Realm?

  Antoinette felt conflicted as she lay on the bed in her chamber and stared out the window at the quiet shadows of the slumbering kingdom. She had, after all, barely passed the first two tests. What challenge would the final test bring? It wasn’t at all like trigonometry, where there were absolute rules—steadfast patterns she could count on to work the same way again and again. She could study for that sort of test. But there was no way to study this time. The third test could be anything!

  Kaliam certainly hadn’t given away much. He had told her that it would be a very personal test, and that the difficulty would be more than physical in nature. Great. But then she had a change of mind. Maybe I can study for this test!

  Antoinette threw off the downy comforter, hopped out of bed, and grabbed a tall candle from the silver stand nearest her bed. She opened the chamber door and peeked both ways up the hall. No one in sight. She crept along the stone passage until she came to a torch, and held the candle’s wick to the fire. Cupping the candle’s small flame with her hand, Antoinette slowly made her way back to Gwenne’s room.

  Back in its holder, the candle cast flickering pale blue light upon the bed. Antoinette opened The Story and began to study. It was like visiting with a cherished old friend, and soon Antoinette was lost among the many adventures within the book’s pages. Through every story, she found the steadfast presence of King Eliam’s will. And there was great comfort in that. Whatever the third test would be, Antoinette knew she would not be alone.

  Hours later, a breath of wind blew out the candle near the bed. And for the first time in many days, Antoinette slept without the invasion of a nightmare. No, instead, she sa
w visions of rolling green hills blanketed with patches of white flowers, under a sky so blue that it must be from another time and another place.

  13

  A WALK AND

  A WHOOSEL

  Now, that is the proper way to break the fast, eh, m’lady?” Elspeth asked, beaming with pride.

  “Mmmm, yes,” Antoinette mumbled, her mouth full of sweet, flaky goodness. Elspeth had prepared a plate full of triangular golden-brown biscuits called scones. Antoinette was already on her third.

  “I added a touch of molasses, I did,” Elspeth explained. “That is the secret, really. Like having the best of gingerbread and shortbread all in the same mouthful. Me mum always made them that way. She learned the art of scone-baking from a splendid old Glimpse from the Blue Mountain Provinces, and now she could ma—”

  There was a firm knock on the door. Elspeth opened the door. It was Aelic.

  “Good day, m’lady,” he said, forgetting that Antoinette preferred to be called by her name. “Kaliam wishes me to inform you that your final test will be made ready late in the afternoon. I thought in the meantime you might like to see a little of this fair city.”

  “I would,” she replied. “I would indeed.”

  After a few passages and flights of stairs, Antoinette found herself walking the cobblestone streets of Alleble, Aelic by her side.

  “Thanks!” she said.

  Aelic’s eyebrows rose in puzzlement. “Why do you thank me?”

  Antoinette grinned. “You saved me!”

  “Saved you? From what?”

  “From Elspeth telling me the entire history of scone-making, that’s what!”

  “I thought I smelled scones!” Aelic laughed. “Yes, Elspeth does carry on a bit, but she means well. Though it may seem otherwise, she will listen more than she speaks if you have a need. And within that kindly mind of hers there is wisdom beyond that of pastry lore.”

  Antoinette smiled. “So where are we going?”

  “To Kindle’s place,” Aelic replied. “To the Armory of Alleble. Then, if there’s time, the market!”

  The Armory of Alleble was a place that instilled quiet. Visitors spoke in whispers out of respect, but Antoinette was speechless at the threshold of the great domed hall.

  “But a small portion of the might of Alleble,” Aelic said proudly.

  Small portion? Antoinette wondered. To her it looked like enough armor and weaponry to equip an enormous army. Barrels full of spears, swords, and broad-bladed battleaxes, great casks filled with iron gauntlets, and row upon row of suits of gleaming armor that were mounted so they looked like scores of knights frozen in time. Antoinette wandered between them, here and there running a finger over the edge of a blade she fancied. “Will I get a sword soon?” she asked.

  “Kaliam will provide you with a blade when you pass the third test,” Aelic answered.

  “Right,” Antoinette replied. The test. She had put that out of her mind, enjoying the sights of Alleble—and the time with Aelic.

  Aelic strode toward a high counter in the back of the armory. “M’lady, if you please,” he said, motioning for Antoinette to join him.

  “Would you please call me Antoinette?” she asked, feigning anger.

  “I beg your forgiveness, Antoinette,” he said. “But do come and look. Here you will see swords of special prominence.”

  Behind the counter, displayed in a case lined with lush red velvet, hung five spectacular blades. Antoinette gasped. Every one of the swords looked hard and strong, and each showed tremendous craftsmanship. Two were long-bladed broadswords of silver. Each had a dark wooden grip carved with intricate designs. The other three swords each had a single groove running from blade-tip to its massive winglike golden crossguard. Their grips were black and ribbed, a little longer than one hand, but shorter than the broadswords. The three blades were identical and matchless in splendor, though in some ways plainer than the others. Antoinette noticed that there was space in the display for more swords. “Where are the others?” she asked.

  “They are with the knights who use them,” Aelic said.

  “And Kaliam owns one of them!” bellowed a stubbly-bearded Glimpse, and his voice echoed in the hall. He was clad in chain mail and possessed a stocky girth that gave him a squared appearance. He leaned on the other side of the counter as if he had been there all along. “The other belongs to Prince Aelic here!”

  “Kindle!” Aelic objected.

  “What?” complained the stout Glimpse, holding up his hands. “It is true.”

  Antoinette stared at Aelic. “You’re a prince?”

  “Not in Alleble,” Aelic replied, glaring at Kindle. “My father is King of Mithegard. It is only there that I wear that title. And even there, I would rather not make much out of it.”

  “You’re too humble,” Antoinette said. And she laughed. “Prince Aelic. It has a good ring to it!” Aelic’s cheeks reddened.

  “Since the prince here has been rendered rather speechless,” Kindle said, “I suppose I should introduce myself. I am Kindle, the keeper of this fine armory. And you must be Antoinette.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Well, Sir Tal was here last night, shopping for a new lance. When I asked him why, he told me he was bested by a swordmaiden from the Mirror Realm . . . called Antoinette, with red hair.”

  “Oh,” Antoinette replied. “These swords are amazing. Did you make them?”

  “Me? Nay, m’lady. I make a fine buckler shield, and no one can surpass my skill with chain mail, but those blades are far beyond my reach. Those were forged and fashioned by Naysmithe, the second Sentinel of Alleble—now the chief metalworker to King Eliam.”

  “I really like them, especially those three,” Antoinette said, pointing. “Do those belong to the Elder Guard?”

  “Those three?” Kindle asked. “Those are Naysmithe’s newest swords. But they do not belong to any of the Elder Guard. Naysmithe says they are to be wielded by the three heroes who are to come.”

  “Three heroes?”

  “The Three Witnesses,” Kindle explained. “There are some in Alleble who take to a legend about three mighty warriors who will save The Realm. I do not really hold to such tales, but Naysmithe does.”

  Kindle was quiet for a while, staring at the three identical swords. Finally, he said, “Did you notice, magnificent and strong as they are, the three swords have no engraving, no emblem, or mark? Naysmithe says the swords are not yet finished—that they will only be completed when the time comes for the Three Witnesses to appear.” Kindle shook his head and laughed. “Naysmithe and his tales.”

  The market was already bustling with activity when Aelic and Antoinette arrived that afternoon. Shacks, carts, and stands filled the streets, and hundreds of Glimpses milled about or hurried by. Everywhere Antoinette looked there were gorgeous hand-woven tapestries, intricate beaded jewelry, and lovely crafts. Smoked meats hung above one stand. Wheels of cheese adorned another.

  “This is marvelous!” Antoinette said.

  Aelic nodded. “Artisans from all over The Realm bring their wares to trade and to sell, for Alleble is one of the few safe open markets left.”

  “Because of Paragor?”

  “Yes, he is the root of most troubles in The Realm, and he has begun to move ranks of soldiers along some of the trade routes to the north and west. Still, here in Alleble merchants may find refuge, and just about anything can be found here in the marketplace—even some oddities.”

  “I love to shop,” Antoinette said. “But I, uh, don’t have any money.”

  Aelic frowned. “Did you think I brought you here to torture you with want? You have but to ask, and I will buy it for you.”

  “Aelic, I couldn’t do tha—”

  “Remember, I am a prince. I can afford it.”

  Just then, they heard a high-pitched squeal. Something orange and white darted out from under a table and scampered across their path. Whatever it was disappeared down an alley. Then, two sweating, ros
y-cheeked Glimpse boys went running by, looking left and right, and hollering at each other. “You let him get away!”

  “Did not. I told you not to scare it.” And just like that, they too turned down the alley. Aelic looked at Antoinette. She shrugged and said, “Let’s go.”

  At the end of the alley, they found the two boys with sticks poking at a small orange ball of fur. “Come on,” one boy said.

  “We just want to play a bit,” said the other. Antoinette heard a tiny trilling whimper and caught a brief glimpse of two large brown eyes glimmering in the mass of fur.

  “Stop that, boys!” Antoinette said in a tone harder than she intended. The two startled boys jumped and spun around.

  “S-sorry, m’lady!” said one of the boys, staring wide-eyed at Aelic’s and Antoinette’s armor.

  “You were hurting that—” She tried to get a better look, but the critter was balled up tight.

  “Whoosel,” Aelic answered for her. “I do not think any lads of Alleble should be about tormenting a defenseless animal.”

  “Begging your pardon, Sir Knight,” said the other boy. “But we just bought this whoosel, and well, they are right cuddly most of the time, but this one nipped my finger, it did.”

  “And then it run off !” said the first boy.

  “So you thought poking it with a stick would make it more friendly?” Antoinette asked. The two boys looked away and shifted back and forth on their feet.

  “There you are!” came a booming voice from up the alley. A wide Glimpse wearing a soiled apron and what appeared to be a fur tunic came waddling up the alley. He had no beard but a very long mustache that bounced when he spoke. “I told you lads not to grab her by the tail! Whoosels do not take kindly to that.”

  He took no notice of Aelic and Antoinette. “Now, here is your shiny silver coin back,” he said to the boys. “I will not be having anyone mistreating one of my whoosels.”

  He handed the first boy a large silver coin, and the two boys walked quickly out of the alley. Suddenly, Antoinette felt a strange scratching at her ankle. She looked down and saw the same pair of big brown eyes staring up at her. But the whoosel had uncoiled and now nuzzled back and forth between Antoinette’s feet. It looked like a very long fox’s tail with a small triangular face, large fuzzy ears, and a tiny pink nose. It squeaked and chattered, stopping now and then to look up at Antoinette.