The Elder Lands

Chapter 33

Chapter 33

His breath came in gasps and pants as he sped through the hallways of the palace. He’d been stopped more than once, by servants or guards. The servants were polite but inquisitive, while the guards were stern and cautious, if not suspicious.

Lucan had told them all the same thing. His father had forgotten an important item that was a constituent to his attire, which would be needed for the knight to appear presentable before the King and which Lucan must deliver to him promptly. His lie was enough to get him past the scrutiny for now, considering he seemed harmless, was without a weapon, and was the son of a trusted knight. He knew such an excuse wouldn’t last for long, however. Already, a servant had asked him to let them deliver the item to his father, and Lucan had had to come up with an excuse not to on the spot.

When he reached his father’s chamber, he didn’t find him there. And he had to speed through the hallways once more, yet he was stopped more times in a single hallway than he had since he’d left the grand hall, for he was now heading to the King’s study, and he was finally forced to slow himself into an energetic walk instead of a run.

After many persuasions, pleadings with guards, and even once being searched by a sergeant of the royal guard at the corner of the hallway that ended with the King’s study, he found himself face to face with his father, who had just stepped out of the study.

Perhaps reading that which was written on Lucan’s face, his father hastily herded him back to their chambers.

Once the door was shut, he turned to him. “What is the matter?”

Lucan told him. He told him everything the princess said, and the consequences of it. Though he needn’t have done the latter, as he saw his father’s face falling and losing color with every word he said. He knew full well the reverberations of these new revelations and how they would affect their position.

It was the first time he saw his father’s metallic poise collapsing. For a fleeting moment, he saw his father’s countenance uncertain, his normally set jaw shuddering, his squared shoulders swaying.

But it was only a moment.

Again, the jaw settled, the shoulders firmed. Sir Golan nodded slowly. “This is my mistake. I will make certain the King and the prince know that it was mine alone.” He looked Lucan in the eye. “I will do my utmost to leave you untouched by this…misfortune.”

Lucan looked at his father, his father who disliked his reading habit not because he didn’t care for Mother’s memory but because it pained him to remember it, because perhaps he loved her even more than Lucan did. Lucan wound himself up to speak but he found nothing to say.

“You’ve done well,” his father said.

“Thank you, Father,” Lucan said. “However, I don’t think the second prince will care whether it was you alone or both of us. I’m the heir of our estate. It’s only natural that I bear the consequences with you. And, Father, I will.”

“No,” his father growled. “I erred. It is my responsibility.” A press of his lips along with a grind of his teeth told Lucan that his father was incensed. “I will not have you pay for my mistakes.”

“I don’t think either of us have a choice in the matter,” Lucan said. “Now come what may come, we’ll have to bear it together.”

His father sat down slowly and gave him a rueful smile. “And do you know what may come, Son?” He sighed. “You may never be knighted. The land would go to someone else, and the best you could hope for would be to become a retainer of your second uncle, barely better than a commoner.”

“I know, Father,” Lucan said. “I know.” Even though he hated to imagine himself becoming a retainer to Winton when he became Lord after his father, he still accepted it. If it came and he couldn’t live with it, then he would simply leave, perhaps become a retainer to another noble in another Kingdom or even a mercenary, however bitter that would be to swallow.

For now, they ought to see what would come of this. And if there was a solution, then by the Elders, they had to grab it by the throat.

“Lucan!” a voice called amidst the commotion of the feast. Lucan had been sipping wine alone, this time by choice, while taking cover beside a large curtain. He’d been deep in his thoughts about their dilemma, as though he could find a solution hidden somewhere, but he knew he couldn’t.

The voice was familiar but not pleasant. Lucan looked in the direction it came from to find his cousin, Winton, looking back at him from among the party of young nobles that accompanied the first prince. His cousin waved for him to join them.

Lucan grimaced but went anyway. The first prince was towering over most of his companions. Lucan arrived while he was still in the middle of telling a story. He lowered his head and greeted him even as he spoke. “Your Highness.”

The prince nodded to him briefly before continuing his story. “So this turnip farmer keeps hearing it every day. And no matter how much he swears he does, his wife says there’s nothing. He nearly believed he was going mad. Some of his peers were even beginning to say he was cursed by the damned gods. Every day, the scratching and clawing sounds would not relent. And the farmer would suffer a torturous sleep. And just before he could truly go mad, it happened. The Outbreak happened right underneath his very house. A crack so big I’ve never seen it’s like. I tell you, the Outbreaks in the Union are something else. We went to the Break’s site the morning after it happened. A bloody affair, many of the neighbors died. But the turnip farmer..the turnip farmer lived.” The prince paused to laugh and sip his drink. “He was the first to hear them as they came out. He pulled his disbelieving wife out and ran. Their neighbors weren’t so lucky. I tell you, I’ve never seen so many monsters coming from one Break before. I went there along with some of my host’s men and members of an adventurer’s guild.” He snorted and his eyes roamed over the faces of those standing around him. “Yes, even filthy adventurers have guilds there.” He shook his head with another chuckle. “We culled the beasts. My blade alone took two dozen heads, nearly half of what came out of that Break.”

The prince nodded to himself assuringly. Then he snapped his head towards one of the young nobles in their circle, one who had produced a dubious countenance after hearing what the prince said last. “What, you don’t believe me, Willian?”

The young noble was shocked enough to be flustered as he answered. “Of-Of course not, Your Highness. I would never–”

“Do you want to taste my greatsword?” the prince interrupted him. “Because she wouldn’t mind tasting you, of that I’m certain. Perhaps we should go out to the training ring. Have a bout.”

“Your Highness,” the young man, Willian, bowed hastily and more deeply than he had to. “Please, I meant no offense. Of course I’m no match for your skill.”

Lucan noted that most of those around them were at a loss for what to say. Then he glanced at his second cousin who suddenly spoke.

“Your Highness,” Winton said. “I believe Willian was simply having a difficult time imagining such a large Break.” Then he glanced at the others around him for affirmation. The young men all nodded and hummed their affirmations.

The prince seemed mollified, though he scoffed before sipping his wine and saying, “Still, to doubt my words.”

“Your Highness,” Willian hurriedly said. “I did no such thing. The size of the Outbreak surprised me. I had some difficulty envisioning it. Please excuse the limitations of my imagination.”

“Very well,” the prince said, letting the tense atmosphere flow back into normalcy. Then he dove into another story.

Lucan made certain he was as invisible as possible among the group before his ears discarded the royal’s voice. His eyes searched the hall they were in. The second prince was conspicuously absent and Lucan could see the tension among the older nobles around Duke Elmere.

The third prince was among his retinue of locals, his countenance unchanged since he first saw him. The man gave off an aura of embitterment that Lucan couldn’t disregard. He imagined he might have been bitter too if he was a prince destined to only lose standing as time went on and with no opportunity to compete for the throne. His brothers were wrestling for the highest seat in the Kingdom while he had to accept his fate.

The princess was entertaining some of the noble guests in the hall. When he looked at her, she glanced at him momentarily, catching his eye. Then she looked at a door that led to one of the side halls. She wanted to speak to him again. About what, he didn’t know, but he assumed it was the same matter she had failed to discuss with him last time.

Lucan slowly extricated himself from the first prince’s party, earning a quizzical look from Winton. He was grateful for his second cousin’s attempt to include him, though the notion had likely originated from Winton’s father and not Winton himself. Either way, he had to speak to the princess. He wouldn’t scorn the only royal who’d aided them so far.

The last thing he heard before he retreated from his company was the first prince’s voice: “I tell you, those priests are abominations. Half Mer half Men? I saw them on…”

The prince’s voice faded into the noise of the main hall as Lucan slipped through the crowd in the direction of the side hall indicated by the princess.

He entered and found it empty save for servants, like last time. Lucan didn’t have to stand there sipping his drink for long before the princess followed him into the hall in her light blue gown. She came with a personal maid who was instructed to stand near them as they spoke to avoid any suspicions of impropriety. The princess must have trusted this one maid, since she was close enough to really eavesdrop on their conversation.

Lucan bowed. “Your Highness,”

“Lucan,” the princess said with an easy nod. Then, without pause, she proceeded to speak of serious matters. “I assume you didn’t catch up to your father in time.”

Lucan frowned and shook his head. Being reminded of it did nothing to improve his countenance. They were neck-deep in royal politics, and not in a promising way.

“We’re stuck with the decision we’ve made now,” Lucan said. “I don’t believe we can change how it is perceived even if we change it now.”

“You cannot,” the princess affirmed. “Not in that way at least.”

Lucan leaned forward in spite of himself. “There are other ways?”

“Not ones you should concern yourself with.”

Lucan pressed his lips and assumed the most beseeching posture he could without losing his dignity. “Please, Your Highness, if there’s a way, we…need it. I would owe you gratitude once more.”

“Already piling up your debts, are you?” the princess said. He got the impression she wanted to chuckle but was holding herself back. “There’s no love lost between me and my oldest half-brother, not to say that there’s any lost between me and the others either.” This time, she did chuckle. “So I wouldn’t mind divulging another secret. But make no mistake, I do keep count of what I’m owed.”

Lucan nodded deeply. “I understand.”

“Very well,” the princess said. “You’ve stood near Oswin for a whole dozen breaths. That means you’ve already heard stories of his ‘heroics’.” She inclined her head in question.

Lucan nodded. The prince hadn’t been too shy to boast, after all.

“Yes, of course,” the princess nodded, chuckling once more. “He is a great and brave knight as all know, and as our family with all its members would affirm, for it would shame us all if he were a craven, spineless leech.” She gave Lucan a pointed look.

Lucan sputtered. His perplexion only lasted for a moment before he recovered, yet he was still uncertain where the princess was going with this.

“You see,” the princess said. “My brother has had little encounters with combat. True combat, that is. He’s gotten his Blessing, yes. He’s even gone down to the Labyrinth once. Only once, unlike what he would have you believe.” She leaned forward and whispered the next few words. “He needed the care of a Ritualist for his…mind,” she pointed at her head, “after he came back that time. Since then, he couldn’t bear the thought of going near the damn tree. I can tell you he doesn’t fare much better on the surface when it comes to conflict.”

Lucan took it all in, his surprise warring with his confusion. For he still didn’t know what that had to do with him. “Your Highness…”

“Let me finish, will you?” the princess said, to which Lucan nodded apologetically.

“Now,” she continued. “Word has certainly reached my second brother, Dane, of your father’s opinion on his coming ascension to the throne. You need a way to mend some of what was broken. Your father might be part of a minority, but that minority isn’t small enough to be negligible. My father knows it. I know it. And Dane certainly does too. And I must admit that the middle one of my half-brothers is in possession of some wisdom. The last thing he wants is to inherit a Kingdom with the stability of a raft in a thunderstorm. He will have to disillusion those who support Oswin of their convictions.” The princess stepped closer to Lucan but still kept enough distance for propriety. “And what better way to disillusion men whose ancestors earned their titles by strength of arm than to show them the fragility of their claimant? Only, it wouldn’t be wise if Dane did so himself, for it would hurt the reputation of our whole family, and that wouldn’t do, would it? My father wouldn’t approve of him…or any of his supporters doing it.” She paused for a moment, letting Lucan’s thoughts come together and prepare him for what she would say next, for what he knew she would say next. “I hear your father is a true warrior, a true knight. Someone of adequate skill, certainly adequate to have a friendly spar with my heroic brother. It would be glorious, don’t you think? And if it is done in the presence of many noble onlookers? Well, that would make it a grand spectacle, wouldn’t it?”

“Your Highness,” Lucan said, still stupefied. “That would be replacing one disaster with another.”

“Not quite. You would certainly make an enemy of Oswin,” she conceded. “But which enemy would you rather have? The one who will be King or the one who won’t? Father won’t be happy with you, but he will be inclined to believe it was a mistake made in good faith, considering your father’s stance on succession. And as you well know, Father’s approval of you won’t be important for too long.”

Lucan was silent for a while, his mind a tempest of clashing thoughts. He inadvertently let out part of his uncertainty. “It’s…”

“A necessity for you,” the princess finished for him. “One you wouldn’t have even known was possible if it weren’t for me. You mustn’t forget that you owe me a debt of gratitude for it either.”

Lucan let his thoughts settle and nodded absentmindedly. “Yes, Your Highness.” He gulped and took a deep breath. “I suppose I should go speak to my father now. Tomorrow would be a good time for this hazardous adventure, I imagine. I don’t look forward to seeing it, if I’m to be honest.”

“Then rejoice,” the princess said. “You won’t.”

Lucan looked at her quizzically.

“It’s only fair that you get started repaying your debts, yes?” she continued.

“What is it you might need from me, Your Highness?” Lucan asked the question with utmost honesty, for he didn’t know what service he could provide for the princess in the royal capital itself, where she could have all that he could not provide.

“You live in the hinterlands of the Kingdom, wouldn’t you say?” the princess said.

Lucan affirmed with a nod.

“Would I be right to imagine that you and your father’s men-at-arms have wrestled with Outbreaks on more than one occasion?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Lucan said, still uncertain what she had in store for him.

“You see, Lucan, I have two…friends, you might call them. I would like for them to gain some experience and perhaps earn themselves some much-needed Vital Orbs. The Labyrinth is the best choice for something like this around here, as you know. Of course, the truth of it is self-evident. They need experience, so…”

“They have none,” Lucan said.

“Precisely,” the princess said. “You, however, do. You have fought Labyrinth beasts before. Your men must have, too. Perhaps you could assist my two friends with this dive into the unknown.”

“But I’ve never experienced the Labyrinth myself, Your Highness.”

“Well, you can never have everything, can you? You’re the best they can get, and so they shall get you. Perhaps you should think of this as your opportunity to get that Labyrinth experience you lack, hmm?” she smiled.

Lucan nodded. “If it will repay you for the kindness you’ve shown us, I will, Your Highness.”

“It will. For some of it at least,” she said. “One of my servants will come to you with the particulars.” She nodded to him and gestured towards the door that led to the grand hall.

Lucan bowed slightly and took the leave he’d been given, turning on his heel and walking gingerly towards the door, getting his heavy thoughts in order. At least until one such thought gave him pause. He stopped.

He looked back towards the princess who still wore a faint smile. “Your Highness, I hear it is very difficult to be granted entry to the Labyrinth, considering everyone wants it. And now with all of the Kingdom’s nobles here, it must be an even more arduous affair. Are your ‘friends’, nobles themselves?” he asked, certain that the answer would surprise him.

“No,” the princess said, losing some of her mirth but keeping her easy confidence. “But you are.”

Lucan couldn’t stop his eyes from shifting with his rapid thoughts. “My father once told me that it would be difficult for even us to gain entry on any normal day, let alone now.”

“Ah, I see,” the princess said, regaining her mirth, but this time it wasn’t real. Her smile was no longer one of complete satisfaction but one of dominance. “I suppose I should clarify then. It’s only natural that my family reward one of its faithful vassals for dutifully insisting to escort me all the way to the gates of the capital, all for the sake of my safety. Your father is truly a man to admire, yes?”

Once more, Lucan was stupefied. He coughed out the next words when he realized he was frozen in an unseemly half-turn. “Yes, Your Highness.” Then he turned back towards the door, and he walked slowly to where his father would be, wondering all the while whether the princess had planned this since she’d met them in Arpague.

Of course, he imagined that originally she’d planned it to seem like a favor to them, the entry to the Labyrinth. Then she would’ve ‘requested’ that her ‘friends’ be allowed to accompany their party down there. Now, it wasn’t a favor to them, it was the opposite, and Lucan found himself nervously wondering about the ‘particulars’ the servant would be coming to him with.