Son of the Hero (6 page)

“I think that’s why I’m here. I guess it’s my turn. And I really don’t know where to start.”

“If I were a bit younger, I’d saddle up and lead the army after them, or ride along with you myself. But the army, such as it is, is fully occupied in the north, trying to hold back magic with metal. It doesn’t work as well as a good wizard would.” He didn’t raise his voice or look back, but I couldn’t miss the rebuke he was directing at Parthet. Neither could Parthet.

“When this is over,” I said, “perhaps I can take Parthet back to my world to let an eye doctor fit him with proper glasses.”

“Anything to help,” Pregel said. Parthet kept silent.

We crossed to a room on the other side of the hall.

“My private dining room,” Pregel said, “for days when I don’t feel like going up and down steps.” The room was thirty feet square. A long table bisected the room. There was a fancy chair at one end and six plainer chairs along each side. As soon as the king arrived, servants started hauling in food through a door in the back corner.

“Will you join me in a little breakfast?” the king asked. I had a notion that it wouldn’t be proper etiquette to refuse even though I was stuffed. I didn’t need Parthet’s discreet throat-clearing behind me.

“I’d be honored,” I said.

“It never hurts to fill up the corners,” Parthet said.

“We did have a bite downstairs,” I said.

Just the three of us sat, with Parthet across the table from me. Pages served us. Kardeen stood at the king’s right elbow. He didn’t eat, but he didn’t seem to be lacking for nourishment. Pregel started on a large platter of food. So did Parthet. The wizard ate as if it had been twenty days since his last meal, not twenty minutes. I ate just a little, and had trouble with that.

“We’ve had no news at all from Castle Thyme,” Pregel said after he had made serious inroads on breakfast. “Your father went some two weeks ago, taking just his squire and two men-at-arms. Your mother came through four days back and set off at once. She didn’t even stop to eat. Of course, there really hasn’t been time for her to get to Thyme and back. Or scarcely enough. It’s two days each way, and that wouldn’t leave her time to do anything.”

“Her note said she expected to be home yesterday afternoon,” I said.

Pregel frowned. “Peculiar. She knows how long the journey takes.”

“Could she have planned to use magic doors to get there and back?”

“There are none in or near Castle Thyme. Too risky.”

“Perhaps she merely wanted to ensure that Gil would follow as soon as possible,” Parthet suggested.

“Could be,” I said. “She always used to say it was later than it really was when she was trying to get me up for school.”

“Or perhaps she thought the situation would be beyond her ability to handle alone,” Parthet said.

“Then I should hurry.”

The king nodded. “Parthet, you
do
plan to accompany him, don’t you?”

“Of course, Your Majesty. He knows nothing of our country.”

“I don’t like this one bit. Turning a stranger loose on such a perilous mission.” Pregel stared at me. “I don’t like risking my heir like this.”

I looked from him to Parthet. Neither was paying any attention to me at the moment. His
heir?

“The lad hasn’t proved himself,” Parthet said. “Much as I like him, you can’t know that he will be the heir you need.”

“He is my heir,” Pregel said firmly.

“You know, Your Majesty,” I said, just to remind everyone that I was still in the room, “I still don’t know what the hell anyone’s talking about.”

Three pairs of eyes turned to me.

“You are my only direct male descendant,” the king said. “Heir apparent to the throne of Varay.”

I don’t think anyone heard the muted “Holy shit!” that I just couldn’t restrain.

4
Chamberlain

Pregel groused and pouted by turn. His face got red. He left food on his plate, shoved it away, got up and went to one of the four tall, narrow windows in the room. I got up from the table with relief, Parthet with reluctance. We waited for His Majesty. Baron Kardeen remained as he had been. Waiting seemed to be his natural function. The wait wasn’t long, but as usual in uncomfortable situations, it seemed eternal.

“We have to do what we can for my grandson,” Pregel finally said without turning away from the window. “I won’t risk him alone on this.”

“Your Majesty, delay might put my parents at greater risk,” I said.

“I know. Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of here quickly, as fast as may be. I think we can still find horses.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the chamberlain said. Neither of them bothered to ask if I could ride. Maybe they took it for granted, or maybe my parents had talked about my riding—sometime in the past I knew nothing about.

“A page to attend him and at least one soldier,” Pregel said, his voice starting to sound almost bitter. “The heir of Varay need an entourage, poor though it might be. And perhaps you can spare an hour to brief the prince and equip him properly.”

“At once, Your Majesty,” Kardeen said.

We waited some more. “Then get about it, man, while I dress,” Pregel said. He came over to me. “When this is over, we’ll have to spend some time together, get to know each other while we may.”

“I hope to have that opportunity,” I said, meaning it.

“I’ll see you in an hour then, in the throne room.”

I nodded, and the king left the room alone.

There was a moment of silence and then Parthet looked at Kardeen and said, “His health seems much improved.”

The baron nodded. “When I told him his grandson was here, he virtually leaped out of bed.” Kardeen smiled wanly. “It feels wonderful to give him good news for a change. He’s been so besieged by worry lately, especially since the young Etevar seized Castle Thyme.”

“If we’ve only got an hour, shouldn’t we get busy?” I asked. I was getting increasingly annoyed at being discussed in the third person all the time, but there was no decent way to make the point. all I could do was toss in my two cents’ worth now and then to remind everyone that I was there.

“You’re right, of course,” Kardeen said easily. “Let’s go down to my office.”

It was quite a walk, down the stairs we had come up, along the broad corridor past the great hall, through a left turn and along a short corridor, up a shorter flight of steps, thirty yards along another corridor, up another short flight of steps into yet another—but much narrower—short corridor. By my reckoning, we had left the keep and had to be in what I had thought was just a curtain wall, or maybe we were in the large tower at the southeast corner of the courtyard. We went through one office where a clerk was writing—using a long quill on a sheet of parchment the size of a Monopoly board—into a smaller office with a large desk and several chairs. Kardeen indicated chairs and seated himself behind the desk. When he rang a bell, his clerk raced in from the outer office.

“I need the Master of Pages and the guard commander, as quickly as possible,” Kardeen said. “Also the armorer.” The clerk bowed and left.

Kardeen stared at me. I stared at him. He was just under six feet tall, about my height, and built solidly enough to be an athlete or warrior. He looked to be in his late thirties, but by that time I didn’t put any trust at all in age estimates. Age was apparently a very nebulous quality in Varay. The baron was clean-shaven, had inky black hair with just the slightest trace of gray, and had deep-set black eyes, a hooded look. His desk was large, unpolished. There were a number of scrolls on it, rolled-up, held by ribbons or rubber bands. A desk set held a pair of felt-tip markers.

“I think that the first thing I need is basic data,” I said. “Background information. How big is Varay? How far is it to Castle Thyme? What’s the trouble in the north that keeps the army busy? What’s the basis of the current dispute with the Etevar?” I could have asked questions all week and still had more waiting, but that wouldn’t do much good, so I wrapped up the abbreviated recital with a reminder. “I don’t know anything at all about this place.”

“I know that your parents planned to wait until you turned twenty-one before they told you about the buffer zone. You might be surprised to know how often you have been the topic of discussion here at court.” Kardeen glanced at Parthet before he continued.

“Varay is one of seven buffer kingdoms that lie between the domains of Man and Fairy. This is a particularly narrow place in the zone, with the unscalable Titans to our south and the Mist, also called the Sea of Fairy, and the Isthmus of Xayber to the north. Xayber is the only land passage to Fairy. We have often stood at the van in struggles with the elflords. Dorthin lies to our east, and Mauroc beyond it. Belorz is our western neighbor. Both of our immediate neighbors are much larger, more populous, and stronger than Varay—mostly because we are always the first to feel the wrath of the elflords of Fairy. Belorz has given us no trouble in many generations, but Dorthin is a recurrent plague.”

“Just where in the world
is
Varay located, though?” The time difference would seem to put it on the west coast of the United States or Canada, and while it wouldn’t surprise me to find something as screwy as Varay in California, I didn’t think it was there.
Somebody
would have mentioned it.

“It isn’t located anywhere in your world, or in the world of Fairy either,” Kardeen said. “The buffer zone partakes of both but is part of neither.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, “but go ahead. We can’t waste time on details now.”

“Logic and science contend with chaos and magic in the seven kingdoms,” Parthet said. “Logic and science don’t always win. Perhaps that is essential. The worlds balance each other across our fulcrum. Neither side can be confident of victory in any particular clash. The rules are liable to change without notice.”

“In Varay, and to some extent in the other kingdoms, we stand between the forces of the two polar realms, mortal and Fairy,” Kardeen said. “Walking the edge of that precipice is our key to survival. Tradition is our only measure. In the buffer zone, neither mortality nor immortality can be taken for granted. A gain in strength by one side calls forth renewed efforts by the other, trying to redress the imbalance.”

“Complete domination by either side would likely destroy both,” Parthet said. “And any major swing in either realm is reflected all too quickly here in the center. Jerked back and forth like a pull of taffy.”

“And your army is tied up by trouble with Fairy,” I said, trying to direct the conversation to more practical considerations.

“Off and on for decades now,” Kardeen said. “And whenever our troubles in the north increase, the Etevar of Dorthin tries to take advantage.”

“Why?”

“Our most ancient legends tell of a time when the seven kingdoms were united in an empire strong enough to enforce an era when the buffer zone was just as potent as either Fairy or the mortal realm—our Golden Age, with prosperity and contentment. The Etevar wants to recreate that empire with himself as ruler.”

“The title Etevar means “emperor” in the old language,” Parthet said. “The renewal of this legendary empire is a recurrent disease in their family. Generation after generation of Etevar holds the same goal, strives after it whenever he can, thirsts after it always.”

The Master of Pages arrived. Kardeen and Parthet wrangled with him over the selection of a page for me. It sounded like nonsense, but I was in no position to gripe after the king said I was to have a page. I told myself to go with the flow until I doped out enough of the situation to assert myself. The discussion did give me time for a little mental digestion. All I really got out of the previous discussion was that we were the good guys and everybody else was the bad guys, especially the Etevar of Dorthin and anyone out of Fairy.

By the time the Master of Pages was dismissed, the guard commander and the armorer were waiting. I couldn’t ignore this discussion.

“How many soldiers can you find to accompany the prince, right away, this morning?” Kardeen asked the guard commander—one of the thug-types I had seen in the great hall at breakfast. He was several inches shorter than me and built solid, like a side of beef.

“We don’t have enough men for garrison duty now,” the commander said. His voice was a throaty growl that sounded like the harbinger of serious health problems in the near future.

“At His Majesty’s direction,” Kardeen said.

The guard commander looked as if he wanted to growl, but didn’t.

“Someone who knows the land between here and Castle Thyme,” I suggested. A half-blind wizard might not be the most reliable pathfinder. “What about that man we talked to this morning, Uncle Parthet? What was his name, Lesh?” Parthet nodded.

“I believe Lesh is from the eastern marches,” the guard commander said. “But perhaps someone a bit younger might serve you better.”

“Or not,” I said. “If Lesh is willing to go, I’ll have him.” Parthet looked pleased by my choice.

“As you wish, my lord,” the commander said, bowing.

“If
he’s willing,” I emphasized. “I don’t want draftees.”

“Is there anyone else you’d also like?” Kardeen asked.

“Lesh is the only one I really had a chance to meet,” I said. “Look, I know this is difficult, but time seems to be in short supply. One man or six won’t make much difference unless I take a whole army, and the more time we waste finding people, the longer it will take. I appreciate the concern, but I’m worried about my folks. Lesh, Uncle Parthet, and the page. That’s entourage enough for now. Truly.” Kardeen looked relieved. He dismissed the guard commander with instructions to get Lesh and four horses ready to go, fully equipped for a week in the field. Then it was the armorer’s turn.

“We need equipment for His Highness,” Kardeen told him, “Mail shirt, buckler, helmet.”

“I have my own weapons,” I said. Everything but the pistol was in plain sight. I didn’t bring the gun out.

“If I might examine them, Highness?” The armorer studied my bow, sword, and knife critically. The compound bow didn’t throw him for an instant. “Excellent weapons, lord.” I though so. Dad always insisted on the best.