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The young valet’s elegant blue tunic caught the sun as light filtered through the curtains. A single beam landed on his matching felt hat and yellow hair. Moving in and out of the morning ray, the boy quietly draped Barin’s cloak over his shoulders and fastened it with confident hands. Barin stared past the boy. Emotionally unable to make eye contact with anyone from the palace—certainly not a youthful domestic who had never seen combat. The bloody memories in Barin’s mind were too vivid still. Not only the death of his men during their encounter with the skura, but the terrifying mountain giants that had taken his squire’s life and left the rest of his troops traumatized. He had no desire for this royal protocol.
Still weary from the trudge over the mountain with a shattered and bleeding militia, he considered himself emotionally, mentally, and physically drained. The battle brought him in touch with his humanity. He felt for his men. His heart went out to the common folk of the valley, and the poor souls who took that journey with him. His soldiers, and the farmers who worked the fields, were foremost on his mind.
He had buried his disappointment toward Erika. For now. He would not speak of the murder of King Rolland. Another time. If he were to tell his father tonight what happened, all the anger and shame rooted inside of him would rise to the surface. Barin needed to temper those emotions if he were to act like a prince, a son, and a brother.
At least his sister hadn’t whimpered or carried on during their venture home. She had made him proud of her response to the terror in the canyon.
He bit his lip as the valet strapped the royal sword around his waist. A beautiful tool made for formality rather than for use. A heavy piece of steel with a gilded hilt and etching of a destrier, the Potamian symbol for honor. He didn’t deserve such honor. He pushed the belt away.
“My Liege, it’s required of a prince returning from battle, otherwise it would discredit your Father.”
Barin looked into the boy’s innocent blue eyes. Correct. Protocol required him to wear the sword. He cleared his throat and muttered.
“They say a prince who has honor will not wear it around his waist to flaunt it but will instead bow his knee to the servants who gained it for him.”
“And if the prince gained the honor for himself, my Liege?” the valet asked.
“No one gains honor for himself save those who died in its name.”
The servant hesitated. “Yes, Vasil” he whispered and bowed, backing away to return the sword to its mount.
The death of the Cho Nisi King brought not honor, but dishonor. The image of Rolland bleeding at his feet haunted Barin more than the evil giants that later attacked him. He would have mourned for the king’s death regardless, but that his sister had slain the man devastated him. Barin should have taught Erika better.
All his life he had wished the best for his younger sister. He’d been training her, hoping that she would gain the skills she needed to be a warrior simply because she wanted the challenge so badly. He hoped she would overcome her gloom. A sadder person he had not known, always wishing for something just beyond her reach. Eventually Father would learn that she had killed their ally, and then what would happen to her? A soldier’s punishment? He doubted their father would admonish her too severely.
Father had a soft spot in his heart for Erika. Their mother had sacrificed her life to bring Erika into this world. And if rumor does not become public, there will be no repercussions from the kingdom’s citizens. Finding a tactful way to deal with the island will be another matter.
Barin sighed when the valet stepped back and bowed.
“You are ready, Vasil.”
Barin nodded, allowed the valet to open his door, and walked into the hallway. Cold air greeted him as his eyes rested on the marble statue of Pólemos, the God of War holding a bolt of lightning in his right hand, and a sword in the other, a chiseled robe draped over his shoulders. Barin didn’t believe in his father’s gods. There is no such thing as glory in war, nor is there a god that offers men a portion of that glory. Barin breathed deeply and proceeded to the grand hall.
The castle held the chill this time of year. The ceilings were high, the walls cold stone. Every tap of his boot heels echoed down the chamber to the throne room. He struggled with forming the words he should say to his father as the majestic doors swung open to the king waiting on his throne for him.
Morning light seeped through the stained glass, accenting more statues. Eidy, the goddess of love and her lover Eroto. Father had moved these deities to his throne room after their mother had died, to keep the love they had shared burning.
Busts of his ancestors lined the walls in between the gods. Grandfathers and uncles who, for centuries, had kept this kingdom united. The wars they saw, the celebrations, the deaths were folklores now. Their heritage bore legends of heroes and mighty deeds, and still the threat of annihilation haunted the empire. Barin did not consider himself a hero among them.
He bowed before his father.
“Son.” A gentle sigh came from King Tobias. “It hurts my heart when you do that.”
“It’s protocol, Father.”
“Rise.” Tobias stepped off his throne and as soon as Barin stood, they embraced. “Your soldiers tell me the battle didn’t go as expected.”
“No. It didn’t.”
“Well, sometimes we expect too much.” Tobias kept his arm around Barin’s shoulder, a warmth that only his father could give. Barin needed reassurance, not just for losing good men in a conundrum, but for losing faith in his capabilities. He should have trained Erika better, or have prevented her from coming. Barin was responsible, in part, for the death of King Rolland.
“At least you and your sister came home alive. Are you hungry?”
Barin shook his head. “I’ll wait for dinner.”
“Tell me what you’ve learned. What happened?” King Tobias ushered Barin to a table while a servant placed two chalices and a decanter before them. The king nodded for the servant’s dismissal.
“I learned there are way too many skura in this world. It seems no matter how many we kill, twice as many reappear. We slew hundreds. The most impressive fighters were those from Cho Nisi. Their magic did remarkable things. The surviving skura fled. To where I don’t know. They’re back in the valley already. I’m certain whatever good we did will not be the end. They’ll return, possibly in threefold. Or hundredfold.”
“What do you propose?”
“I promised Lord Garion we’d dispatch troops and that they would stay in the valley with him. They’ll be under Felix’s command. We can’t leave Tellwater unprotected. Felix lost more men than we did.”
“Very well. We’ll prepare to send him men. Supplies maybe. Anything he needs. This will take time. How many men did we lose?”
“Twenty in the valley and my squire in Canyon Gia on the way home. He fell to mountain giants!”
The king’s eyes widened. He moaned. “Squire Richard? I’m sorry.”
Barin ran his finger over the rim of his chalice. He hated losing men, and Richard had been but a boy. He grieved silently, but a prince must quell his own suffering. Otherwise, he would shrink from battle, and there were many more to come.
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“The other men made it back safely, though worn and disheartened. We had a long and grueling journey. I suggest we return by the southern route and with a mounted army.”
King Tobias nodded and fell silent, as though struggling for words. He poured wine into Barin’s cup, and then into his own. Barin stared at the dark red liquid before taking a sip.
“The best from Lord Garion’s vineyard.” King Tobias offered a toast. Barin tapped his chalice to his father’s. The king frowned. “It’s my hope there will be more wine after this. And crops. Whatever mastermind is behind those demons will seek revenge. I’m believing the legends. If what they say is true, this Skotádi’s hand is swift and vehement. I fear the loss.”
“Skotádi. The phantom demon,” Barin whispered with a nod, remembering the cloaked figure in Canyon Gia who vanished with the mountain giants.
“Perhaps. I’m not one to believe in ghosts. Nevertheless, Lord Garion will need a good-sized army…”
The king looked up from his chalice. “I heard that the Cho Nisi King died.”
Barin took a sip without looking at his father. “How did you hear?”
“Your sister told me.”
Shocked that Erika had already told their father, Barin met his eyes.
“Yes. She told me she accidentally released the first arrow that began the battle and killed our friend. She is suffering remorse over the matter. As much sorrow for his death as for your rejection of her.”
“I don’t snub her. I am equally guilty. I didn’t know the Cho Nisi had already arrived, but I should have. My negligence caused the Cho Nisi king’s death.”
“And you will have a price to pay, I’m sure. We lose many men in war, and many still in friendly fire. This accident could have been avoided, but perhaps we’re all to blame,” the king replied.
Barin shook his head and set his cup down. “What if they find out whose arrow shot their king? Neal spoke with the warriors. He apologized, but they seemed not to accept. I’m afraid they’ll seek revenge.”
“Yes, I fear that as well.” King Tobias leaned back and cleared his throat with a concerned frown. “They may deem us enemies now. If that’s the case, we will take the offensive. Do you know if King Rolland had children? An heir?”
“I have no way of knowing. The warriors never mingled. I barely spoke to any of them. You spoke to King Rolland, didn’t you?”
“Only politics. I didn’t inquire about his family life. He mentioned no children. I had heard enough reports of his magic, and I’d have been a fool to refuse his offer of help. Because no son or daughter fought with him, I am going to assume there is no heir. I’m thinking it’s time we move to secure that island.”
Barin stared at his father in disbelief. “An invasion at a time like this? After we caused the loss of their king? Father! That would guarantee a war!”
“We must take our chances. Negotiate! An island without a ruler is fodder in the hands of our enemy. The island rests in our seas. Should the Vouchsaver’s army conquer Cho Nisi, our own kingdom will fall.”
“Too soon. They’ll think we assassinated their king intentionally.”
“Don’t they already?” King Tobias’ face flushed, and he clenched his fists when he rose. “My intention is to protect the people of Prasa Potama and the Potamian kingdom. That is our charge! Let this island become part of our kingdom and we’ll protect it.”
Barin stood as well. Normally a quiet man, when Tobias raged, the entire room vibrated.
“They have called me soft-hearted many times, Barin, but for the welfare of my subjects, I will not relent. They are priority. Do not forget that.”
“Yes, Father.”
Tobias grunted and slammed his chalice on the table. “Blessed idols, son! I didn’t mean to become so irate. It seems I’m having to raise my voice too often as of late.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not just you. I had to speak to Kairos again.”
“And Rhea?”
Tobias shook his head and grabbed the linen napkin from the table. He wiped the wine off his beard. “I haven’t talked to your sister yet, but yes. If Kairos doesn’t come up with some kind of solution, I fear the enemy will get the best of us regardless of whether we conquer the island or not. But the boy keeps…” he waved his hand in disgust.
“They’re in love.”
“Yes, well, that matter can wait for times of peace. We can’t afford to be in love. Not now. None of us.”
Barin observed his father with concern—his quickness to anger, his gestures. If there were comforting words to offer, Barin would utter them, but tonight he himself wondered how fruitful all these battles and quests could be. “The worst we can do is let our emotions decide for us.”
His father looked wide-eyed at him. “Are you suggesting my fears are unfounded? I lose men every day to evil. Lord Garion has lost crops, livestock. His people cringe in fear. They’re afraid to step outside at night. Are you suggesting that’s tenuous?”
“No, Father.”
“Whoever is behind this evil has an agenda, son. If the devil meant to kill us, he could have done that by now. He must have a more devious plan. And yes, it scares me!”
“What do you suppose is his plan?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be sitting here begging a worthless magician to come up with some kind of magic potion to destroy a flock of skura. It’s all we have right now.” He sighed heavily and calmed himself. “I digress in this conversation. You expressed concern about Cho Nisi, and I gave you my solution. They’ve been loyal to our cause, and we’ve returned it with a grave injustice. The island is without a king now. It seems to me we must visit them. One of us. You have more pressing matters, so perhaps we’ll send an ambassador. There needn’t be any bloodshed. Perhaps offer some coin, some trade, a treaty. They would receive our protection in return. They need our protection. They have magic, but how much magic? Can they hold off all of Skotádi’s demons indefinitely?”
“They did a remarkable job the other day.”
“What I want to know is how long can they last? There are limits to all magic, son.”
Barin leaned on the table and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know. There’s no guarantee they will agree to becoming part of our kingdom. If our offer angers them, who knows what they would do. The Cho Nisi would be just as powerful an enemy as the ones we face now. Do you really want to be on the receiving end of their magic?”
“Son, I have never been to Cho Nisi, but I have been to similar islands. Native people live humbly. They work with their hands. Forage for food. They have no access to weapons such as ours. I don’t doubt Skotádi has more powerful spells than the Cho Nisi. He could destroy their island in a wink of an eye. With no place to run to, all the inhabitants there would die a callous and tragic death. They need our protection.”
“It seems they can take care of themselves?” Barin said.
“Did these natives that fought with you have swords and bucklers on them?”
“No.” Barin glanced past his father. Erika stood at the door. He didn’t acknowledge her presence, not with words. He couldn’t help looking at her, though. No longer the rag doll in a man’s armor, she had cleaned up and donned a dark frock. A simple cut, the dress could have been a mourning gown. Her thick red braid fell stylishly over her shoulder. The resemblance to his mother stopped his heart.
Barin looked away. “I’m not sure conquering Cho Nisi would be as effortless as you suppose, Father. They may live humbly, but from what I’ve seen, they’re a proud people. When King Rolland died, they communicated with Neal only, and even then with strained interaction. I fear them, father. We have nothing to counter their necromancy. And with our arrow having killed their king, I doubt they would negotiate.” Barin dreaded another battle against insurmountable odds. Fatigued, his men were worn and wounded. They were distressed and frightened, if not from the skura, then from the ordeal in Canyon Gia.
“Speak sense, son.” The king sat down again. He, too, saw Erika and said nothing, but his eyes lingered on her form for a moment. Perhaps the ghostly resemblance of his beloved wife kept his glance.
Barin took a seat across from him, blocking the king’s view of Erika with his back to the door. He handled his chalice thoughtfully, running his fingers along the etched design. “I don’t think you’ve ever seen this kind of magic before, Father. I never have. It’s …strange.”
“All magic is strange.”
“The Cho Nisi commanded a cyclone to take the skura into the air and drop them, so that every last one fell with a broken neck or shattered bones. I have heard rumors of similar spells transpiring along the shores of their island. The land will mysteriously disappear or turn to treacherous sandbars. Whirlpools seize shape so fast and so deep that ships sink in them. The tide will rise inexplicably or fall and send boats adrift. Those waters are dangerous. Sailors avoid them. Anglers will steer clear. I don’t see how we can invade.”
“I’m not afraid. I will go,” Erika said.
King Tobias looked up. Barin peered over his shoulder at his sister.
“Give me sailors and I will go to Cho Nisi and offer myself as hostage. I owe it to you. To them.”
“No, Erika,” Barin faced his father again, snickering and shaking his head. “And make another fatal error? You’ve already killed their king. What kind of reception do you think they’d give you? They’d hang, draw and quarter you as soon as you got near. If you could get near.”
“I can get near. They wouldn’t hang me. My father’s reign on that island would be for their favor.”
“No, Erika. That’s nonsense. If they viewed our fleet approaching their island as an invasion, we’d have no means to counter their magic,” Barin said.
“I’ll take Kairos with me.”
Barin laughed, choking on his wine.
Tobias scowled at him but spoke to Erika with his fatherly voice. “Barin needs Kairos with him, Erika, my lovely daughter. When preparations are in order, he’ll return to Tellwater and take the magician. Besides, I don’t want you as a hostage on some remote island.”
“I must make amends for what I did.”
She took a breath when Barin faced her. There were more to her words than what she said. He could read it in her eyes, and the way she stood.
“You will have time to make amends,” King Tobias assured her. “Lord Garion will need shelter for the troops we send him and so I have scheduled a two day-trip into the city tomorrow to discuss tent-making with an old friend of mine. The three of us will talk more when I return.”
Barin turned away and sipped his wine, avoiding eye contact with his father, hoping the king did not intend to give Erika another assignment with him. He set his chalice on the table, shuddering at the thought of returning to battle with his sister in tow. He had hoped Erika had learned her lesson and would stay home from now on.
The silence stiffened until she finally spoke. “Very well.”
The door closed before Barin finally looked over his shoulder to where she had stood.
“You’ll watch after her while I’m gone, I trust?”
“Yes, of course, Father.”