Burden of Stones

by James Dale

  “That title,” Anna said to Jack as the applause washed over them once more, “you have earned with your love.”

  “It will be the easiest title of all to bear,” Jack smiled, squeezing her hand.

  “We shall see,” Anna smiled.

  Chapter Nine

  Travel Plans

  Early on the fifth day since Anna and Jack had ridden side by side to storm Ellgereth palace together, they stood side by side once more in the Chapel of Saint Elloras and spoke the Holy Vows of Commitment, proclaiming their promise to wed before Doridan’s High Priest, Father Aaeron Hael, and Seven Witnesses. Morgan stood as the First Witness for his niece. Tarsus Aernin stood as First Witness for Jack Braedan. Theros, Cilidon, and Jack’s “cousins” Arrinor and Ailicia An’Mera of Elvendale were also there. As was Gain Ellgereth, newly appointed Duke of Raashan. The last witness was Kaerl An’Kaera, King of Annoth, who had ridden down from Immer when word reached the city of the death of King Ellgenn. In the culture of Doridan, and indeed most of the Whesguard kingdoms, the Vow of Commitment was an unbreakable bond, only annulled on the rarest occasions. The treacheries committed by Kaithan were deemed severe enough to break the Vows. In the eyes of High Priest and Morgan, the only two who had witnessed these same Vows between Annaywn and Kiathan, it was if the words spoken between them had never happened.

  Jack was still a little unclear how these Vows were different from the Vows of Matrimony. He and Anna promised to forsake all others, to support each other in times of plenty and times of famine, in health and illness. In the eyes of the Creator, they were wed, but…not wed. At the ceremony’s conclusion, they were promised to each other, but not…together, not one flesh. Not yet at least. He found it strange, but was he still unaccustomed to much of the Whesguard culture. Anna smiled at him and they kissed after their exchange of vows was completed, so he was content at her happiness.

  His contentment would not last long.

  After Anna was whisked away by Morgan to another council meeting to continue undoing the damage Kiathan has managed, he and Tarsus retired to the Amarians quarters and he learned more about Whesguardian culture. “A year!” Jack gasped. “We don’t have a year!”

  “You should have done more reading and spent less time at swordplay with your Lions, while your Horsemaiden was in mourning,” Tarsus shrugged. “When she gets out of the council meeting, take her to your bed and get it over with. We certainly don’t wait a year in Amar. You and Teala would be at each other like two Shar’cats by now,” he grinned.

  “A year?” Jack sighed again. “I have…things to do. I can hear the Sunheart calling me. It’s flaming ringing in my head right now.”

  “So, bed your queen and get it on with it,” Tarsus shrugged again. “Or wait. But if you’re going to wait, might as well do some good with your time. I hear Cassaban and your money counter are going to go look at a herd of Val’anna is afternoon. That should be a sight. I might buy myself one. If you’ll loan me some money?”

  “I’d buy one for every Galekindar if it would shorten a year by about three hundred and sixty days,” Jack muttered.

  “But you’ll start with one for me, right?” the Amarian grinned.

  “Yeah, I’ll buy you a pony,” Jack laughed, his mood lightened by his friend. “I don’t suppose you know where Cassy and Richard are, do you?”

  “No, but I bet that smug, little servant of yours does,” Tarsus replied.

  “Smug little…you mean Daen?” Jack replied. “I bet he does indeed.”

  They soon found Daen Haemon, who was never father than earshot from Jack it seemed. He knew of course. It was his business to know things, after all. The boy led them down to the royal stables where Borg, Arrgenn Dunnahel and Richard were examining the Val’anna of the king’s stables, now Anna’s of course, to school de’Bracy on the proper judging of horseflesh so he would feel better about spending Jack’s money.

  As luck would have it, they were studying Eaudreuil.

  “Horse-brother!” the stallion whinnied as Jack approached, “Would you tell these two-legs I grow weary of their gawking? That one,” he beamed, tossing his head in the direction of Dunnahel, “actually tried to look at my teeth! If he had been just a little slower, he would be needing a healer.”

  “You have a…spirited mount, High Prince,” Arrgenn observed, now at a safer distance and counting his fingers to ensure himself they were all still attached.

  “Eaudreuil doesn’t like to be touched,” Jack grinned. “He’s funny that way. You could have just asked you know?”

  “My Asha, would never behave so…unseemly,” Arrgenn muttered.

  “Asha,” Eaudrueil snorted, derisively, “would lay down and let you scratch his belly for an apple. It shames me to admit he’s my kin.”

  “I thought he’d recognize me,” Borg added. He stood at a safe distance as well.

  “Oh, he recognizes you, Cassy,” Jack nodded, “but still…

  “I think I’ve seen enough,” Richard announced. Unlike the two experienced warriors, he stood almost within reach of Eaudrueil’s strong teeth. Out of purchaser’s curiosity or stupidity, who could say? “But I still say they are not worth the price.”

  “How much for war trained stallions, Arrgenn?” asked Jack.

  “Twenty gold Dorkarrs, High Prince.” Arrgenn replied. “For one such as my Asha. For your mount? One hundred easily, though I’d not pay a copper for him with his temperament.”

  “And what is the amount of credit you’ve drawn for me, Richard?” asked Jack.

  “Ten thousand gold Thrakken, my Lord,” de’Bracy replied.

  “Ten thousand!” Tarsus whistled. “That would buy…five score at least!”

  “I didn’t know you were a math wizard, Tarsus,” Jack remarked with a raised eyebrow.

  “I was a pirate, Jack,” the Amarian shrugged. “I know how to count coins.”

  “And how much have you allotted for Cassy to hire more men?” he asked Richard.

  “Another two thousand gold Th’rakken, my Lord,” de’Bracy replied, the pain in his voice plain for all to hear.

  “Make the best of it, Cassy," Jack informed the Lion. “By the looks of him, Richard will have a heart attack if I ask for more.”

  "Twelve thousand gold Th’rakken! Give me a month and the Golden Lions will rival any cavalry in Doridan," Cassaban promised. "Thanks to Kiathan's downsizing over the last few years, there are a lot of good swordsmen sitting around unemployed."

  "Give us two months, High Prince and we'll rival the Knights of the White Horse!" Arrgenn Dunnahel boasted.

  “And that was the problem, wasn’t it?” Jack thought silently. He didn’t know if he would be staying Dorshev in two months. Or two weeks. Or even two days. Sunheart was calling him. He’d only told Tarsus so far. But what he hadn’t told his friend was last night he’d dreamed of the Highsword as well. For a fleeting moment, Graith had been a part of that dream. It was a good thing he hadn't been Dreamwalking. Without Yhswyndyr...it was best not to think about what might have happened had the dark-King found him in the Land of Dreams without the sword. He would need to tell Theros and Cilidon. They were the last of the Highsword bearers. If anyone would know if this was…normal or not it, would be those two.

  Tonight, Jack decided. He would tell them tonight. He knew from Daen Haemon Theros, Cilidon and Kaerl An’kaera, had already started discussions on who would accompany him to Lordsisle and who would return home and begin preparing for the inevitable war with the Graith. How the boy knew, he didn’t ask. If he didn’t work out as Chief Stewart Junior Apprentice, Braedan was confident he could always get a job in the intelligence service.

  Then there was Anna. She was queen now, with responsibilities and problems of her own, and despite their vows yesterday, they were not husband and wife. Would she...could she go with him if he asked her? Crowned only a day, could he really expect her to abandon her kingdom for the three months everyone assured him it would take to go to the Temple of the
Sword and return with Yhswyndyr? Doridan could already be at war by then, depending on how quickly Graith marshalled his forces. Norgarth was barely two weeks sailing distance from Galfrey and the other southern coastal towns. An army marching from Denelad could reach Dorshev in less than two months. Even grim'Hiru from Grethor would only take a little longer. They could already be on their way. What if he left Dorshev in two months and an eastern army arrived only days behind him? He could return three months later to find the Whesguard in flames.

  “My Lord?” Cassaban interrupted his grim thoughts.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I said you looked troubled my Lord,” Cassy repeated. “You have too many burdens to bear, Jack Braedan. Leave this to me and Arrgenn. I know some of the lads are going to visit Erlwin this morning. Why don’t you tag along? It’ll be good for you to get out of the palace. It would be good for Erlwin as well. What do you say? Set aside all this…and just be Duke Jack of the Golden Lions for a few hours?”

  “That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Jack nodded. A little ride and some fresh air might do him good. Being with the Lions always brightened his spirits.

  “What do you think Eaudrueil? Want to go for a ride this morning?” asked Jack.

  “I thought you would never ask,” the stallion replied, stomping his fore hooves impatiently. “I’ve been cooped up in here far too long.”

  “Let me find a stable boy and we’ll get you saddled. Daen!” he called.

  “I’ll find Captain Vanar and tell him you’ll be joining them,” the boy replied. “Meet them at the palace gate, in oh…. fifteen minutes.”

  “If you don’t mind Jack,” Tarsus began….

  “Oh, go with them,” Jack smiled. “Richard, Tarsus Aernin gets the pick of the herd and a Val’anna for the Galekindar officers.”

  “As you wish, my Lord,” de’Bracy bowed.

  Jack found a helpful stable boy, and for once Eaudrueil didn’t cause a fuss when Braedan let someone help with his saddle and gear. In short order, he and the Val’anna were at the front gate of the palace, waiting for the rest of the Lions. Kirk Vanar, Cyran, and Anghol met him not long after.

  “Just you three?” he asked.

  “Limits on guests my Lord,” Kirk informed him.

  “They don’t like large crowds of Lions at Saint Eialhor,” Cyran admitted.

  “They say we’re unruly,” Anghol replied. “If you can imagine such a thing?”

  “You guys? Unruly? I’m shocked,” Jack said, feinting surprise. “I’ll have to speak with your commander.”

  “Cassy is the unruliest of the lot?” Anghol laughed. “Where is he by the way? I thought he was joining us?”

  “He may be along later. Right now, he’s off buying Val’anna stallions for the Golden Lions.” Jack replied causally.

  “Val’anna?” Kirk smiled. “Like Eaudrueil?”

  “Hopefully with a gentler temperament,” Jack grinned.

  “I heard that,” the Val’anna snorted.

  “I meant for you to,” Jack replied. “Shall we be off?” he asked the group. “Just like old times, huh?”

  It was a pleasant ride to Saint Eialhor’s. Spring was in full bloom. The temperature was warm but not too warm this far south. The citizens of Dorshev seemed determined to return to a sense of normalcy after the chaos of the last week. Shops were open and the bazaar was packed with a throng of shoppers. Jack stopped at a fruit vendor’s booth and bought Eaudrueil an apple. It was a beautiful day indeed.

  His spirits were soon lifted even more by his visit with Erlwin. Though the Lion had suffered grievous wounds in the Battle for Dorshev, he was recovering quickly. A week after taking an arrow in his back and falling from his horse, to almost be trampled to death by Thunderiders, he was now well enough to be sitting up in bed, complaining about the food.

  Jack and the original Lions sat from late morning, until well into the afternoon, swapping stories of the battle and catching up. When Cassaban and Arrgenn Dunnahel arrived midafternoon, it had turned into quite the spirited visit. Jack could well imagine why the Lions had developed such a reputation so quickly with the staff. Unruly was being a little harsh in his opinion however. Zestful and boisterous maybe, but not unruly. The comradeship of soldiers often pushed the bounds of “polite” behavior. When it came time to leave, the Lions, and Arrgenn particularly, taunted Erlwin playfully about itching to be off to The Wicked Maiden for drinking, dicing and other…activities.

  “The Wicked Maiden will be there when you're fully recovered," Jack assured Erlwin. "Hell, you can't even get out of bed to take a pee by yourself. You’re certainly in no condition to go dicing and wenching."

  "Dicing yes," Erlwin laughed, then grimaced as he pulled a stitch in his side. "They don't let me gamble here. But all I have to do is crook my finger and the lasses come running right to my bed."

  "To change your honey pot maybe," Cyran snorted. "Wrapped up in those bandages, are you even sure you're still carrying your...sword?"

  "I'm still armed," the wounded Lion grinned.

  "But does it work?" Borg asked teasingly.

  "I'm hoping to find out as soon as the lot of you finally get out of here," Erlwin replied with a lecherous wink. "Tonight, it's Inga's turn to give me my sponge bath."

  "Then we won't keep you wondering," Jack grinned. "Come on guys, it's getting on toward supper time."

  "The Wicked Maiden will be getting crowed in another hour or so as well," Arrgenn added. "If I don't get there early, Maelissa will be booked for the evening."

  "You guys are absolutely shameless," Jack muttered. "Rhyn would drag you home by the ear if he heard what you just said Arrgenn."

  "Not everyone can be as lucky as you, my Lord," the young Dunnahel replied. "Not that you and the queen...I mean...ummm... No offense intended my Lord," he finished quickly.

  "We'd better go before Arrgenn says something that gets him in trouble," Jack laughed, bringing their visit to a close. As they left Erlwin's room they spotted a buxom, doe eyed, brunette coming towards them down the hall, carrying a pan of water. To a man, the Lions stopped dead in their tracks to watch as she approached.

  "You must be Inga," Jack bowed with a smile. "You might want to take care. Erlwin's feeling rambunctious this evening."

  "I thank you for the warning," the nurse laughed. "But Lieutenant val’Durn’s bark cannot match his bite. Yet. Though another week at the speed he's recovering and I'll be needing an escort to enter his room."

  "When he gets that feisty, send word to me at the palace," Jack informed her. "I'll come get him personally."

  "The palace?" she asked, tearing her gaze away from his green eyes. "I... forgive me!" she whispered, almost dropping the pan of water in her haste to curtsy. "I didn't realize it was you, my Lord."

  "It's Jack as long as you keep doing whatever you’re doing for Erlwin," he grinned, assisting the woman back to her feet and opening the door to Erlwin's room.

  Inga flashed him a dazzling smile and with a saucy sway of her hips, disappeared inside.

  "If Erlwin's...sword isn't fully functional with that lass washing his back," Cassaban observed, speaking for the rest of the Lions, "it will never work."

  "Come on," Arrgenn grinned. "Let's get his Highness back to the palace. I'm suddenly of a mind to get my own back washed tonight."

  It was nearly sundown by the time they left the hospital, and Dorshev's second day of celebrating the coronation of their new queen was near to reaching a crescendo. Revelers crowded the streets, making them almost impassable despite Cassy's shouted curses for the merry makers clear a path. Unfortunately, his cries only brought notice to their little group, and soon realization dawned on the crowds the rider surrounded by Thonbor's Golden Lions was their queen's betrothed. Word quickly spread and the throng began struggling to push their way through the Lions to get a better look at the High Prince and Annawyn's Swordmaster. Though his men tried valiantly to keep the curious crowds at a safe distance, Jack was soon
surrounded by babbling well wishers.

  "Horse-brother?" Eaudrueil beamed anxiously.

  "Easy does it boy," Jack replied. "They don't mean any harm. Try not to step on anyone."

  "I will try," the stallion said doubtfully.

  He was soon shaking outstretched hands, alternately smiling at all the upturned faces and urging them to stay clear of the Val'anna's hooves. Borg Cassaban was cursing a blue streak while Arrgenn struggled to make a path through the throng as Cyran sought to reach his lord's side.

  At that moment, something whistled by Jack's head and a scream was heard dimly among the revelers. He whipped about and searched the crowd, but they were so tightly packed he couldn't tell if anything was amiss. A few seconds later, he felt a sharp, biting pain in his side and looked down to find a hole in the loose, sky blue silk. He heard a grunt of pain. This one right below him. With sudden dread, he saw a tall, gray haired man fall back into the crowd, the fletching of a crossbow bolt embedded in his shoulder. Before he could open his mouth to shout a warning, yet another bolt struck a young woman standing at his stirrup, hurling her against Eaudreuil's flank.

  The crowd erupted in panic.

  "Horse-brother!" the Val'anna neighed loudly, rearing with alarm.

  "Go!" Jack instructed the roan, “Ride!” a split second before Cassy shouted the same order at the Lions.

  A forth bolt struck him in the back, almost throwing Braedan forward. He only stayed in the saddle by grasping desperately at Eaudreuil’s broad neck. When stallion again had his front hooves on the ground, he leapt forward, charging down the street, riding over any hapless two-legs not quick enough to jump from his path. Hanging low against the stallion's thick neck, Jack twisted in the saddle and looked behind the now galloping Val'anna. He had time to offer up a silent prayer of thanks no one seemed to be badly injured, then they were suddenly free of the crowds.

  He reigned Eaudrueil to a skidding halt and thought about going back to help until Cyran arrived at his side.