XXXVII. Tulfric the Clever recalls of his early days in the capital, a variety of things that amused all of the prince’s brothers. He remembers with affection the memory of one occasion in the inner bailey of the royal castle of Eldershold; they trained their skills with the bow and arrow, and Carédock seemed to miss the middle spot of the target every time,
-“Stop wasting arrows, brother” said Memlafar eager for it to be his turn with the weapon, “you will leave no spares for us!”
-“Quiet now, Mem” said Carédock, “this time I will mark the spot”, he aimed at his target and focused his eye on the middle spot, when he loosed the bow the arrow flew well above the target, landing somewhere far by the wall. Carédock notably irked, took yet another arrow and aimed again, but a voice that was too familiar for his ear seemed to distract him.
-“there won’t be enough arrows in store, for when we need them, Carédock” said a young knight of about their same age, his hairs were curly and blond, and his eyes were small and kind as if he were not among peers but brothers. Tulfric startled but Carédock ran straight to him to embrace him.
“‘tis you, Martid” said Carédock holding him by the shoulders, “By the gods, I almost did not recognise you among all that panoply, the silver does suit you!” sir Martid of Parma was the king’s cousin and a childhood friend of all four Clasthaur brothers, but in the holidays they would celebrate together, Carédock would spend the most time with him, going hunting in the eves, when it was most perilous, or training together with shield and sword.
-“I seem to remember you were good with the blade” said sir Martid, “But you were never a good archer.” Carédock shrugged and smirked,
-“You were never much different either,” said he, and sir Martid went back saying,
-“Nay, I leave the business of the bow to those who coward away from open battle. No offense Tulfric” the bow and arrow were Tulfric’s preference,
-“none taken,” said Tulfric and thereafter he embraced his kinsman, “I thought, we would not find you here, that you would keep to yourself in the grasslands and hills of Ardor”
-“Ay,” said sir Martid, “‘twas my wish to remain in my country, but the King was adamant, he said he needed as much family as he could get here in the capital. So I have been his squire ever since, It’s been months since I have ridden a good stallion, the horses of Culgarost, are cheap and lazy, nought compared to our white steeds in Arthalyon.”
-“Surely you can convince your cousin to send you back to Ardor” said Carédock, “or else send you to Keor with us, you can breed as many horses as you like.”
-“The woods of Harador are no place for raising horses” said sir Martid, “But jokes aside, I am content here in the capital, besides it would not be a pretty thing to leave a stallion alone. If it weren’t for me, the king would have no relatives in the capital; I am the closest thing his Grace has to a brother. Both parents, dead, no siblings or wife. ‘tis a sad thing”
-“Surely the king will marry anon” said Memlafar, “He is the king, he needs a queen”
-“I am sure he will find one soon enough,” said sir Martid, but his face did not seem quite optimistic by saying this. “But enough of that, I trust you have not deprived yourselves of courting Lady Condor” the brothers shared looks of doubt and sir Martid said,
-“I beg your forgiveness; you have too few days in the city to know her many names. They call her the Vultures’ Nest outside the wall, in the kingdoms; the people of this city took a liking to that moniker, but styled it so that it matches the city’s true spirit. Thus we call her the Lady Condor”
-“it seems too luring a name for a place they deem a slaughter house,” said Carédock, “but I cannot say, I regret coming here, now that we have found you. Show us her streets.” Memlafar looked concerned,
-“We mustn’t” said he, “Elbracht and mother told us that we should remain in the palace”
-“this is exactly why we don’t bring you with us so often, Mem” said Carédock, “if you wish to stay than do so if you must, but don’t trouble us nor keep us from meeting the fair Lady Condor” Memlafar was not amused of being belittled so frequently, so he hid his fears away and followed his elders and kinsman.
Sir Martid took Carédock, Memlafar and Tulfric and they ventured in to the deep streets and alleys of the city, exploring the capital’s true colours and customs; much to the dislike of their brother and mother, but Memlafar could not say he did not enjoy of these adventures. To venture the streets they would dress so poorly, that no one could tell, if they were lords or pages.
Tulfric observed in his accounts of these explorations that by those times the city was literally divided by its walls, entire sectors were determined by these stone-fences; the Old City’s walls, for instance, separated the New City and the forum the older districts and the extensive fortifications of Eldershold fenced off the King’s Garden from the rest of the city.
Each brother grew fond of a specific district; Carédock found the amusement and excitement of the New City most appealing to him. The tournaments at the Royal Circus, the markets and squares—where slaves from the southern continent were sold, brothels and taverns near the New Port were best suited for his wishes. Memlafar found the energy and mess of the New City and its many slums much too overwhelming; instead, he found comfort in the green parks of the King’s Garden and would often gaze up in awe at the tower of the Guardian, yet from the three brothers Memlafar often just stayed at court. Tulfric preferred the libraries and paved roads of the Old City, still he liked the discourses and literate agitations of the Forum in the New City.
Tulfric did not hide away his courting of the Lady Condor, and instead he wrote down details of his explorations in his diaries. In one such occasion, in the narrow alleys near the New Port the brothers, led by sir Martid, learnt of the works and functioning of a pleasure-house,
-“Now, we find ourselves in the womb of Lady Condor” said sir Martid ale-merry, “this is where the city’s new-borns are crafted.”
A pair of women of black hairs and taller than Carédock approached the younger siblings, calling them ‘fresh meat’, to Tulfric it seemed their perfume was as salty as the city’s bay, for indeed the lower-born often washed their clothes by the docks. Carédock understood very well what for they were there, but Memlafar seemed confused.
-“I think we should return to the castle” said he,
-“Never mind that,” said Carédock half as drunk as Martid, “besides, ‘tis already time for you to learn of a maiden’s true charms” Sir Martid guffawed and took Memlafar by the shoulder,
-“I think is safe to say, you have not taste for fish” japed he, but Memlafar did not took it so lightly, with a stern look he took a woman by the wrist and told her to show him her ways, she led to a cabin by the backside, and the other brothers sat by a table and shared some ale. The brothers kept chattering about their brother and his peculiar manners, but soon a commotion from a nearby street caught the brothers’ heed, especially Carédock’s.
-“What was that clamour?” said he
-“never mind them,” said sir Martid, drawing his kinsman’s attention elsewhere “this city is rich in women and lunatics.”
-“Lunatics?” said a thin small man, who kept an eye shut and chewed his upper lips, “mind your tongue in these hereabouts, boy.” the man turned to Carédock, “what your friend means, is the fanatics. Ay, strange folks. They worship that fancy lord from the south”
-“you mean lord Elbracht?” asked Carédock
-“Ay the same,” said the strange man, “I take it, you don’t come hence. Then mind your steps and who you meet, some people in the city are quite queer, like these Fanatics, they have taken this lord Elbracht as some sort of god, they preach of him as the rightful King, and oftentimes they parade her ladyship’s streets vouching for him to replace the boy-king.”
-“How does the city take it?” asked Carédock
-“Well, boy” said the man, “There are some among the older peeps that don’t take it lightly. but most of the folks, like me, just let it go by, we enjoy the tunes and songs, bards sing of him, but we don’t get ourselves to involved in that messy business. Now there are quite a few, who always take it too far, I tell you. Others call themselves officialists, they stand up for the boy-king and when things get untidy the fanatics and the officialist brawl in the streets.”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Sir Martid noticed the man’s telling was getting out of hands, and duty compelled him to keep the brothers from knowing of the feud in the city, but as things stood, it was already too late, he took Carédock and Tulfric and then went looking for Memlafar. Hastily, sir Martid took the brothers back to Eldershold and tried to convince them, that what the strange man spoke of was just gossip and not true, but soon enough they would find out by their own that his telling was truthful.
Tulfric and Memlafar would rarely thereafter leave the walls of the royal palace, still Carédock would join sir Martid in ventures to the deeper city, 'til Medrios began to notice his kinsman ever more recurrent absence and was forced to remain by the King’s side. Sir Carédock, however, would use any opportunity to go back to the brothels, the taverns until he eventually came into contact with the fanatics.
XXXVIII. The lord of Ceor had, just like his brothers, made his own excursions to the city as often as he found the time to spare. His escort was frequently sir Don Gurren, of whose sword and shield he had grown fond. The pair visited the New City and the forum with the tutor Asadue, to learn of the public debates and deliberations of the citizens of Culgarost in the Royal Basilicas. With his brothers, he would seldom parade through the streets to pay his respects in the monuments to kings and heroes of old as it was traditional for the visiting lord in the capital. Especially noteworthy was his visit to the Hallow City—yet another walled district fenced off from the rest of Culgarost. In the holy see of the Sagrary, he paid tribute to Vaxar V, the hoary Susére was, by this point, presumably as old as his late friend, the Guardian Numénqor. They held a private audience in Belyus’ Basilica; many suggest they discussed and recalled the events of the coronation of year last, but none can say for sure, since his Hallowness did not write any diaries, and Elbracht thereafter kept to himself whereof they spoke.
In spite of the lack of evidence to cover their discourse, Carédock, the Elder, cared to write in his diaries the memories of his nephew’s visit to the Hallow City, he recalls how Elbracht had approached him before his audience with the Susére, wearing full-black robes, and unable to hide his eagerness, the lord of Ceor had asked his kinsman to show him the Royal Crypt under the Old Palace, so he could pay his respects to the ancient Argaeron Kings and all the late monarchs of the Realm. The Right Reverend Carédock, now a Mesére, had achieved some merit in the ministry of the Sagrary, and was given the keys to guard the holy tombs. In truth, no one could visit that catacomb without the Susére’s or the King’s leave, but the uncle was so eager to please his nephew he agreed to give him a secret tour before leaving.
The lord of Ceor met with his uncle—whom the years of cloister dwindled in size and strength, and his hairs were brown and his skin, pale under his green capirote-hood—in the Old Palace Royal, just next to St Belyus’ Basilica. There the two men embraced and walked into the silence and dark of that long undercroft of Kings and Princes of elder days. Strangely for such underchambers, there was no cold, only the cozy warmth of candles and sconces glimmering in the gloom. Elbracht wore the customary black and some hints gold here and there that gave the impression; he belonged to that army of passed kings.
-“I am afraid to say” said Elbracht, “that is difficult to recall our time together, you were only so briefly in Keor, that I could hardly remember your face ere you left”
-“Keep you tone low, dear nephew”, hushed Carédock, “This is a sacred place, we ought not to speak” Elbracht shrugged,
-“Never mind that,” said he “these men of yore shall not be disturbed by our talk; if indeed the time should come when they awaken, it shall not be by the chatter of kindred.” He saw his uncle wagging his head.
-“Well, I cannot argue against that” said Carédock, “Many a turmoil has this city alreay endured and not even the lessest of them has cared to creep out from his graves. Mayhap ‘tis for the better that they should sleep on, many would not bear to see what is become of their legacy”
-“I think likewise, dear uncle,” said Elbracht “I lament their toil and effort. Not one of them could have foreseen that a power-hungry Order would steal their crown”
-“Talking in so ill a wise of Neldor will not give you many friend in this city” said Carédock, “unless you wish to join these fanatics that seem to worship your name”
-“I have no love for the Order” said Elbracht, “the knights of Neldor walk in the streets of the Kingdoms as if they owned us. Do you really believe the people of this city love them? It is ony logical that some of them are starting to see their ways are not ours”
-“and still” said the unlce, “most of us benefit from their services; their knowledge in medicine and politics have helped us a great deal. It was them that opened the public basilicas for people to freely debate on the rules of our lords and kings”
-“I don’t belive the lords will not stand them for long,” said Elbracht, “and I don’t believe the priests in the Sagrary like them that much either”
-“Don’t saddle yourself with these worries,” said Carédock, “leave that matter to the King and his advisors. None of the men here would have mind for their aid, the crown of men is very heavy, the Order has only lightned its weight”
-“the weight of the crown is for us to bear” said Elbracht, “all of these men would have told you so if they could hear you now,”
-“O believe me,” said Carédock, “they hear us and they whisper to our ears in the gloom, take your time and you will hear them too.”
The two men walked pass the tombs and read from the scripts carved on the stone; Aurio I and Aurio II, Elorio II and the late Elorio III the Unfortunate, and Medrio I and others likewise called, yet not Elorio I, for he had been buried in another place.
-“It does seem strange that all of them shared similar names” said Elbracht, “many even changed their height upon taking the throne”-“I find it rather beautiful” said Carédock, “it is their legacy what they pass down to their successors,”
-“imagine the weight of having to live up to those name” said Elbacht, “it certainly destroyed them having to live up to the expections attached to their moniker. Certainly some of them succumbed to their heft”
-“it is that weight that men look up to” said Carédock, “not just their names but the handiworks bound with them. Have you not wondered why the city’s walls have never been brought down?”
-“I cannot say,” said Elbracht, “it seems strange that they would not mind for all these fences hindering the roads and paths of their city”
-“‘tis no hindrance, nephew” said Carédock “each wall was commissioned by these men, in their name were they built, tearing them down would mean whipping out their exploits in life, and thus also their legacy. It is rather poetic, I think, that they dare not undo them, for a King of Men can only build upon the legacy of his forebearers. The Argaeron kings raised the walls of the old city, and then Aurio I ordered the building of the outer walls, and so forth all monarchs afer him, raised even more walls and palaces; they are the doing of toil and sweat, no man has the right to undo their efforts”
Elbracht seemed to understand, but he did not nod or assent. He kept his thoughts to himself
-“You resemble a gallant prince of old, yourself, my lord nephew” said the uncle, “you have the likeness of the kings here buried”
-“I hope not,” said Elbracht, “my flesh does not rot and my bones are not bare, I do not wish to share in their rest, so soon”
-“Nay, do not say such sorry things,” said Carédock wagging his head, “I do not wish for you to meet with your father so soon.—Terrible thing what befell him, my old brother! Gods rest his soul; if in indeed he had one.” Elbracht was muddled to hear this. “Though I do hope, your name will end up among these men, there is no higher honour.”
-“I have little interest in the throne of Adein,” said Elbracht, “the burden of the Southern Kingdom is heavy enough, I do not desire a higher charge than that which I have been trusted with”
-“you have bequeathed the Harad-throne from your father” said Carédock “but the throne of man is not handed down, it is earned: I cannot think of a man more fit for the throne.”
-“earned or sold?” said Elbracht, “My father amassed enough glories to earn it and still it was the will of the lords of the Realm, that he should not have it. If the throne of men were really earned, a boy would not sit on it today”
-“Your father’s doom was his own doing, still the gods always have it their way” said Carédock, “but I do hope the fates have something great for you in store, if not the King’s chair, then perhaps the deeds of legend”
-“I should hope so too” said Elbracht “yet if it is glory what I want, it will not come from the fates, but from my own hands and toil”
-“I hear in you the voice of my brother” said Carédock, “I pray, you should not meet the same end”
The lord of Ceor was not contempt to hear this, “the ghost of my father haunts me still with every choice I make, though I do not wish to be him, everyone lures me to follow on his steps; I cannot”
-“then be your own man, nephew” said the uncle, “you are wise to know you can be a better man than him. I did, yet I knew I would never brandish a sword, prayer is a better blade and shield, I have come to learn”
-“We need of that blade and shield in Keor, too” said Elbracht “You have done much already here in Culgarost, why don’t you come with us back to Keor, you will always have a chair in our table. You could be a chaplain in my court; you can have the comforts of our temples and of family and home as well”
-“I think not,” said Carédock, “Keor is not my home anymore; the cloirster is the home I have chosen. But I forsake my love for you and your brothers. I will wield my weapon for you but it will be here in the Hallow City”
Upon having payed his respects in the crypts, uncle Carédock blessed his nephew and saw him to his companions outside the hallow city. Elbracht was notably sad that he could not convince his uncle to accompany him back to his native land, but respected his uncle’s wishes. Leaving the Holy See, a mob formed about Elbracht, but this time no bards sang and no maidens gifted him flowers, this time the crowd was of men with grim faces and stern looks, they did not hail him but shout at the lord calling him Elreck II and Usurper’s Son. This was the first time Elbracht met the Officialists in public, had it not been for his escorts, among them sir Don Gurren, the lord of Ceor would not have returned to Eldershold whole; by the looks of it, some of them were ready to pick up their spikes