Prophecy's Queen (The Triadine Saga)
Page 3
The friends laughed and clanked their silver mugs together, enjoying the companionship that came from a lifetime together.
"My King," Randolf said a little more seriously. "I do believe it is approaching that time, Sire."
"And what time might that be?"
"Why, time for you to take a Queen, Highness.” Randolf again urged his friend to end his bachelorhood.
The King shifted the kitchen maid off his lap and stood, walking to a side table with finger foods arrayed for the small group to enjoy. A servant offered to put a plate together for the King, but he waved him away and simply picked at the table as he stood silently.
"I know you are right, Randolf," he said at last. "I do enjoy the ladies, and there are so many maidens in the Kingdom who have not tasted of my manhood." He smiled at the now abandoned kitchen maid as she blushed and bowed herself back into a corner near the serving table.
"The Kingdom needs a Queen," Randi went on, "and it's time for you to father an Heir."
Leondis sighed and took a bite from a pork pie, the warm juices dripping into his beard and down his chin. The serving man quickly attempted to hand him a finely made napkin, but Leondis was already wiping his chin on the sleeve of his jacket.
"The King needs an Heir, and the Kingdom needs a Queen," he echoed his friend. "I do believe I've been practicing at the first item”—a wry smile crossed his lips—"but I also admit I've not given the second very much thought. You can choose one for me, my friend. Choose me a Queen who will make the Kingdom proud, and I'll keep practicing making an Heir until I get it right!"
At that, Leondis swept across the room and scooped up the kitchen maid in his big arms, causing her no end of delight. As she squealed, Randi rose and just shook his head. "You enjoy yourself, my King, and I will begin the search for likely candidates to be your Queen. There are political alliances that may be made, both inside and outside the Kingdom. I am certain that with a little work, I can find a suitable Lady who will be both the proper mother for your Heir, and a proper Queen for the people."
"You do that, Randi," Leondis agreed with his friend, "and I will go practice with this little maiden right now!" He hoisted the giggling maid onto his shoulder and strutted from the room—the servants quickly opening the double doors in time for him to pass easily through.
Randi stood staring as his friend, and King, strode boldly down the hall, petticoats flying out behind his broad shoulders, and not a care in the world.
"Yes, my King," he said to himself, draining the last of his mead. "It is definitely time you settle down with a fine woman and fulfill the role your father prepared you for."
Five
"Do you believe in fate, Lord Randolf?" The man asking the question was of average build with long grey hair tied back in a ponytail. He sported a full grey beard and wore nondescript robes. He sat quietly in the corner of the inn where Randi was to meet with his old friend Karoel.
"What do you mean fate?" Randi asked.
"I mean, do you believe that certain men are fated to do certain things in this life," he replied, "and that they cannot avoid those things even if they try."
Randi accepted two mugs of ale from the serving girl and slid one across the table to his companion, taking a seat in the process.
"I would say a man makes his own fate, Rendil," Lord Halford Randolf was speaking now, as a man of some ambition who loved his King and the Kingdom that was his home. He would do anything to make sure that both were safe.
"Interesting," Rendil replied, tugging absently at his beard. Rendil was a wizard. He spent time in many parts of the Aren, and if you asked men to describe him, most would be unable to do so. He passed through the world of men without drawing much attention to himself, though he influenced many a man's destiny in the process.
"What brings you to Solenta?" Randi asked politely. Though he was waiting for his old friend, he and the wizard were also long-time acquaintances, and this was not the first time they had shared an ale.
"I am actually here to see you, though I did not know it until just now," the wizard answered.
"I don't understand?" Randi replied. "How can you be here to see me if you did not know you were coming to see me?"
"A valid question, but then that comes back to my question about fate." Rendil took a long pull on his mug.
"I am afraid you've lost me, Wizard," Randi replied, sitting back in his chair and drawing smoke from a freshly lit pipe. "Maybe Karoel can shed a little light on the subject."
The lanky former soldier from Lands End had entered the inn and approached the table with the two men. "Randi”—he nodded his head towards Lord Randolf—“and Rendil. I'm surprised to see you, Wizard."
"It is good to see you, Karoel," Rendil replied. "I was pleased to hear that you have left the service and returned to stay with your father. I know his health is not very good, and he will be benefit to have you around."
"My service with Duke Haren was finished," Karoel answered, motioning for the serving girl to bring another mug, as he dropped into the chair next to Randolf. "My father is indeed suffering from long service to the Crown. It is only by a twist of fate that I was able to serve in the army out of Northcastle and not as a servant in the castle.”
"Ah, fate again," Rendil said quietly, cradling his mug in both hands. "How is Lieutenant Pyke? I understand he was seriously injured on one of your patrols?"
"Lieutenant Pyke is recovering nicely," Karoel replied. "He was very nearly killed in an attack in the Sikyu when we trapped a group of outlaws in a series of ravines deep in the mountains. We lost nearly half the unit, and Pyke's injuries were so severe we had to stay through the winter before we could carry the Lieutenant out to safety."
"I heard the story," the wizard replied, "and I understand that Olman killed a Goblin Commander in that series of raids. That will set them back as they try to establish new leadership."
"I never said anything about Goblins," Karoel replied, looking the wizard in the eye.
"I know what the Fox Hunters were hunting, Karoel, and I know how successful you were at ridding the area around Lands End of their threat. I am only sorry to see the unit disbanded."
"After Lieutenant Pyke's discharge, most of the men decided to end their service when they had the chance." Karoel took a pull on his ale. "How is it you two are here together?" he asked Randi, changing the subject.
"Oh, it's quite by chance, I assure you," Randi replied. "I entered just a few moments ago, and the serving girl informed me that my friend was already here and ordered ale. I thought she was referring to you and followed her straight to this table where to my surprise the Wizard was waiting."
Both men looked to Rendil who simply shrugged his shoulders before replying. "I assure you, I did not know either of you would be entering the inn; however, I did know that the next two men to come through the door would be critical to my mission. I was very pleased to see it was the two of you."
"Now that makes no sense to me," Randi answered, blowing a light blue stream of smoke into the air. "More of that fate talk?"
"Indeed."
"What is your mission, Wizard?" Karoel asked, setting his mug on the table.
"I am here to see that the King takes a suitable bride," Rendil replied. "Do you have any more of that fine tabac, Lord Randolf? It's from up around Eagles Reach, is it not?"
Randi and Karoel looked at each other in surprise, since they were here for the express purpose of discussing the best way to introduce the King to the proper ladies in the Kingdom so that he could choose a Queen. Neither of them wanted to let the King simply marry for political gain. The courtiers were spending all their time attempting to curry favor for their many daughters, sisters, aunts, and cousins, and making sure they gained something from the King's marriage.
Nearly two months had passed since Randi convinced Leondis it was time for him to take a Queen. In that time, Lord Randolf was named the unofficial matchmaker for the King. He was overwhelmed with the task
before him. He had been introduced to dozens of ladies from all over the Kingdom. Promises of riches, estates, marriage to younger sisters, and more, accompanied the introductions. All Lord Randolf needed to do was see to it that the King married the correct woman, and all would be his. When Karoel arrived from Northcastle, Randi knew he finally had an ally in this endeavor he could count on, who would not try to curry favor with the King.
"How could you know we were meeting here to discuss this very topic?" Randi asked the wizard.
"Tabac?" Rendil asked again, holding out his empty pipe. Randi pulled out a pouch of the dried herb and passed it to the wizard.
"Well?" he asked again.
After stuffing his pipe and lighting it with a little wizard magic, Rendil settled back, blew a puff of smoke, and smiled. "Fate, as I said."
"That's not an answer, Wizard," Karoel piped up. "You could not have known we were meeting here, since we arranged this meeting only hours ago. I spoke with no one, and with all the problems that my friend here has with the Lords and Ladies of the capital, I'm certain he spoke with no one either.”
"Let me tell you both a little story," Rendil replied, taking a deep pull on his ale and settling in with his pipe. "It all started nearly a thousand years ago, at The Breaking of the World."
* * *
When Rendil finished telling his story, the men were well into their ale, had eaten a hearty stew with fresh baked bread, and were facing a deep-dish apple pie that the cook pressed upon them. The inn was still empty, and she was afraid her baking would go to waste.
"I've heard the story of The Breaking," Lord Randolf said, taking a forkful of the pie. "But The Prophecy? Now that is something completely new to me."
"It's new to me as well," Karoel added, dishing out some of the pie for himself.
"The signs all point to a time where the world will be at serious risk again," the wizard said quietly.
"You keep talking about the signs," Karoel asked. "What do you mean signs? I thought prophecy was all riddles, and its interpretation was just guessing at what these nonsensical writings meant."
"Prophecy Scholars are very scarce these days, I am afraid," Rendil admitted, "but I assure you, prophecy is not nonsense. It can be hard to understand and difficult to interpret, but it is very real. In this case, The Prophecy contains many possible paths. Some lead to ruin, and some to salvation. The key is to follow the right path."
"You still did not answer my earlier question about how you knew that Karoel and I would be here," Randi asked again.
"I did not know. The Prophecy told me I needed to be here to stay on the right path," Rendil replied, lighting his pipe that was now quite cold.
"How can prophecy be that specific?" Karoel questioned.
"There are some things that prophecy will make very clear, and others that may never be fully understood," he said by way of explanation. "Though I did not interpret the path in The Prophecy that put me here right now, it was very clear to the one who did, that I needed to be here to be able to influence the marriage of King Leondis—so here I am."
"Now about that," Randi said, ignoring prophecy for a moment. "I have promised not to choose a wife for the King, but to let him choose from the most qualified ladies in the Kingdom. I have quite a list now, and if you wish to add one to the mix, she will have to pass my criteria."
"I assure you, Lord Randolf," the wizard said calmly, "the woman I have in mind IS the woman the King will marry. All you need to do is to make sure they get a chance to meet—nothing more."
"How can you be so certain?" Karoel asked.
"Prophecy and fate, my friends. Some things are predetermined, and there is nothing anyone can do to change them once the correct path is chosen. We are still on that path, at least for now."
Six
When Bandefin returned to the home of the Dwarves, deep in the Northern Sikyu Mountains, his three sons greeted him. Beorn was the eldest, nearly fifty-eight now, and ready to start developing his own skills in support of the Clans.
His youngest boys, Volin and Jadon, were forty-seven and thirty-seven, just barely old enough to leave their mother's side. Diagora was the love of his life, and Bandefin would do anything she asked. She never raised her voice with the boys. She kept a clean house and was active in the community of the last living Dwarves.
"Welcome home, my husband.” Diagora greeted Bandefin with a hug and kiss. Dwarf women were nearly indistinguishable from Dwarf men—unless of course you were a Dwarf—and often sported much nicer beards than their husbands. A man who had a wife with a great beard was proud indeed.
"I plan to take the boys out into the valley later today," he announced. "The Groundpounders have cornered a small herd of elk in the box canyon and plan to capture a few of them. I want the boys to take part in the effort."
"Whatever for?" Diagora questioned. "We are not herders or breeders. The Gemformers are made to craft exquisite treasures from the raw stones that come out of the earth. That is what these boys were born to do, and that is what they will do."
Bandefin was a Gemformer in name only. His father's family was Gemformers, and he was to follow in their footsteps as the leader of the Clan. He, however, had no skill at cutting raw stones into the multi-faceted gems that marked the Clan. He could breed animals of any species and draw out their best characteristics, but alas, he was not of the right Clan to be a breeder.
"You know the old Clan names are no more than that these days," he said gently to his wife. "Most of the Clans no longer have the skills that their name implies. All are still required to pitch in wherever necessary."
"Nonsense," she replied as she moved the stew off the fire and set it on the table. "Sit now and have some lunch. You can tell us about your travels after the meal. We will have no more talk of Clan names today."
When his wife ended a discussion, Bandefin knew that it was really over—at least for now.
"Clean up, boys, it's time for lunch," he announced.
The family gathered around a low table and shared the mid-day meal. Though Bandefin had been out in the world for just over a month, the talk at the table was not of his travels, but instead was dominated by his boys telling of their activities of the last few weeks. Bandefin's time to tell his tale would be later, after the evening meal, as the family enjoyed some time together sitting in the summer sun on one of the many terraces that lined the western-facing walls of the valley.
The Dwarves lived in total isolation, deep in the Northern Sikyu Mountains. These mountains divided the world of the Aren from the Northern Wastes. Their ruggedness also provided the perfect place for the now reclusive Dwarves to live their lives completely removed from the outside world. The cavern complex they occupied was once a Goblin enclave. That was before The Breaking, and all sign of habitation by the fox-faced creatures had been erased by centuries of excavation and expansion by the Dwarves.
These caverns did not have the intricate carvings and decorations of historical Dwarf strongholds. The Dwarves who escaped the Great War were sent north in secret by King Silverbeard. It was a last-ditch effort to save the Dwarves as a species, as it appeared the world would be overrun by darkness at the end of the First Age.
Though the Dark Wizard was banished and his armies destroyed, the entire population of Dwarves from the Southern Rilehorn Mountains was wiped out in the final battle. The only Dwarves left in the world were now living in these Northern Mountains. Dwarves reproduced very slowly, and though their long lives made them seem immortal to humans, they were not. They were also unable to bear more than two or three children in their long lives.
Bandefin and Diagora were blessed indeed to have three sons born so close together.
"Father," Jadon asked after they finished the noon meal, "can we go out and practice weapons? We have no other classes for the next few days. While you were gone, I fashioned several new throwing axes."
"Why no classes for the next few days?" Bandefin asked.
"Besides the capt
ure of the elk," Beorn replied, "the miners opened up a new high-grade vein of emerald last week, and Orin has decreed that all able-bodied adults join in the search."
"Then how are we exempted from helping?" Bandefin asked his oldest son.
"I should have said all but the Gemformers," Beorn answered, a little bit depressed. "He says that if they find the right raw stones, that we will have the hardest job of all, and that we must be rested."
The Gemformer Clan was not large, but there were several decent gemologists in the family. Bandefin's oldest cousin Hearn was among them. Though his results were far shy of what their ancestors could achieve, he was considered the most talented living Gemformer. Should they find the mythical stone that Orin was seeking, it would be up to him to craft the resulting gem.
"Orin really thinks this one might be the one, huh?" Bandefin said a little sarcastically.
"He is fairly certain, Father," Beorn replied. "But you know, he was fairly certain the last two times as well."
The raw stone that the Dwarves were constantly searching for was an earth-stone that would rival the mighty Earlach Stone of the Elves—the heart of the fabled Triadine. The Earlach Stone was crafted by the Dwarves, but it was with the direct assistance of the Nordae-Grandia, whom many considered Gods. The Dwarves worshipped the Goddess, but they did honor the ancient ones for their part in creating the Triadine. Orin was sure that the Dwarves would be able to locate another gem-quality earth-stone and be able to create a talisman of equal power. They would harness the earth magic through this stone and use it to keep the Dwarves safe for all time. This was Orin Cavernmaster's obsession, and at times, it took precedence over nearly anything else the Dwarves were doing.
There was no King among the Dwarves, or even a single leader for the surviving Clans. There was a Council, which met when needed to deal with any major issues, but individual Clans controlled the day-to-day operations of Dwarven society. The nature of Dwarves meant they automatically did things for the betterment of all. Orin was responsible for managing the excavation and cavern construction projects, and was given a little leeway whenever a new vein of emerald, or earth-stones, was found.