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“Your choice is purification by frigid freshwater or by trial of fire,” Aldric informed him.

“Would you prefer trial of fire?”

The latter choice did not sound pleasant to Loric, who replied, “This will serve, lord.”

“Come, then,” Aldric urged him. “You keep our guests waiting for refreshment at

Moonriver Castle.”

Loric clenched his jaw and marched out to join Aldric.

Aldric approved with a slight nod. Then he spoke for all to hear, his voice ringing from the rocks, as he said, “Young man, if you would serve me, you must first be a clean man. Let the water purify you, body, soul and spirit.”

Aldric offered quiet instructions to Loric, who passed the Sword of Logant into his

safekeeping. Loric then waded chest-deep and clutched an enormous boulder. The swiftly moving current instantly snatched his feet from beneath him. Yet, as strong as the river was, its flow lifted his body with uncanny gentleness. It made him deathly cold, but conversely; he felt warmth within the cleansing wash. It released him from the earthly burdens that had bound him.

Belinda and Barag were behind him. The ritual eased his worries over the wrongs he had done his father and mother, although it could not entirely erase them. It was a purifying experience--as though the water held healing properties for the soul. Upon Aldric’s command, the young traveler from Taeglin pulled himself around to rejoin the Lord of Egolstadt, to whom he would now swear his fealty, for good or ill.

Aldric continued the ceremony, saying, “I now declare you a clean man. Whatever the

mistakes of your past, you cannot be judged or held accountable for them. Any man, who would say otherwise, let him have words with me.”

Loric nodded, but he found nothing to say. Aldric’s faith in him moved his heart,

encouraged him and like the touch of Avalana’s healing hands, it gave him hope. This was more than a ceremony; it was an unforgettable experience. Whether it was emotional, mental or spiritual, Loric could not tell. Everything was right inside him. That alone mattered.

Aldric handed Loric’s sword back and whispered, “I will request this at the proper time.

Give it to me then, and not before.”

Loric nodded.

“Kneel in the water before me,” Aldric directed him.

Loric promptly obeyed.

The lord then questioned him, demanding, “Do you still wish to serve me, with all of your heart and strength, for the oath you are about to swear is binding?”

Loric was nervous for his reply. It was dangerous to say what was in his head to say. “Yes, lord. I will serve you, so long as your honor holds!” Loric declared.

Aldric looked doubtful. “An oath contingent upon my honor?” he questioned with a chuckle.

“There is something indeed!”

His men echoed his laughter.

“I will serve you, lord,” Loric promised. “Your honor does not stand in doubt, nor do I think it will.”

“It is pleasing to know that you have such confidence,” Aldric returned with a strange twist to his mouth.

Loric was not sure of Aldric’s meaning. He did not specify where he thought Loric’s

confidence lay. It could mean that which he held in the Lord of Egolstadt to continue about his honorable ways or it could be meant pertaining to self, to have uttered said doubt of a noble lord.

Aldric studied Loric, who pondered his reply. At length, he said, “I see you will serve me.

Give me your sword.”

Loric handed his blade to the Lord of Egolstadt. “Now repeat after me,” Aldric commanded.

The son of Palendar began to echo Lord Aldric in a bold voice, but he stumbled right away, saying only, “I, Loric of....”

“Shimmermir,”
Aldric repeated, stressing the lie in question. “Say it!” he hissed, so only Loric could hear. “I command you.”

“The lad’s so nervous he forgot his birthplace!” mocked one of Aldric’s soldiers. The entire company laughed.

Loric had no wish to tell this lie, but he felt assured that Aldric’s honor was quickly coming into question. As such, he held this oath in contempt.
If Aldric would have me swear as someone
I am not, then I am free to break these bonds as the man I truly am,
he decided.
I will swear and
serve, until it becomes dishonorable to do so.
The matter was settled, so red-faced, he started over and swore, “I, Loric of Shimmermir, the Heir of Emerald Mountain, do solemnly swear to serve Lord Aldric of Egolstadt, to preserve his seat of authority, and that of the rightful king, to whom he has sworn fealty. This I shall do with body and blood, spirit and life.”

Then Aldric lifted the blade of Sir Palendar and spoke, citing, “In the name of the Temple, King Donigan, and His Queen, I grant you leave to serve me at home and abroad, as Squire to His Lordship, Aldric of Egolstadt, just as you have sworn to do.” As the liege spoke of the revered trinity, he softly touched the Sword of Logant to the top of Loric’s wet shoulders and head.

Aldric embraced Loric, who held him in a tight clutch, while the assembled witnesses

cheered them. “What was that?” he demanded hotly.

“I will explain it in due time,” Aldric assured him quietly. “Now release me before you cause a scene.”

“We
will
discuss these matters, lord,” Loric assured him. Then he loosed Aldric from his grasp and smiled wryly for his audience.

The Lord of Egolstadt returned his weapon to him, whereupon he sheathed it and refastened it about his waist. Afterward, Aldric helped his new squire out of frigid Moon River. Avalana produced a pair of spare cloaks from her baggage to wrap about those two sopping men. The shivering, shaking lord and squire each gratefully accepted comforting wool, which could not warm Loric as well as his wrath had warmed him.

As Aldric and his newly sworn squire patted beads of cold water from their skin, Loric paused to take special note of the place where he had spoken his oath. He wanted to savor it as a pleasant memory. However, he had been purified and then tainted within a span of ten minutes.

All that had been made right had suddenly been made wrong by the lies he had been made to swear. Loric was furious, but he tried not to let it show outwardly.

The company milled about the south bank of Moon River, in the shadow of the Moon

Bridge. Like the highway upon which they had been traveling, the bridge had been fashioned in better times. Great arches of rock supported the flagstone walk from below, and stone parapets guarded it, standing tall enough to each side of the crossing to provide protection for archers who would defend it at need.

Loric breathed it in and sighed. With his teeth still chattering, he said, “Th-This b-bridge shall always r-r-r-re-mind m-me of this oath, f-for as I p-pass over it, I p-pass from i-innocence to a-adulthood.”

“Indeed you do,” said Avalar. “Would you not agree, Aldric?”

“Quite right,” Aldric concurred with a half-nod. “We all surrender innocence for the greater good of the kingdom.”

Loric glanced at Avalana. To his great dismay, she smiled sadly at him in return, as if she thought innocence too fair a thing to leave by the wayside, whatever the reason.

“I have done what must be done,” Loric answered her pitying expression. “Let duty bring me honor in the name of Beledon.”

Aldric’s men agreed with hearty shouts.

Their lord looked thoughtful and said nothing as he led his company back up the winding trail to the Old King’s Way.

When they came to the Moon Bridge, Aldric opened his mouth to bellow a greeting to the men posted along the walk, but one of the guardsmen was quicker to speak than he was.

“Greetings to you, Lord Aldric. Welcome to you, also, King Avalar and Princess Avalana of Regalsturn. We have marked your progress from afar. We know the Lord of Egolstadt well, so we have no need to delay you. Come across at once and refresh yourselves, lords and lady.”

Aldric thanked the man, and his company passed over Moon River. As they descended the hill on the other side, the castle was unveiled before them. Its beautifully shaped towers reached up to touch the sky, making it look as though they were the massive columns that held the blue canopy above earth. The sun’s bright rays struck the walls, highlighting them in such a way that they seemed to be pure gold.

Blue, green and red banners fluttered atop the towers and balconies, where they snapped and whistled in the wind. Loric noticed that the blue standards hung from the highest towers, while the red and green flew from lower tiers in turn. Upon blue silk, a silver moon lit a high tower one-half white and left it black on the other side, with only the moon reflected in the aqua ribbon of silk at its base. That was the symbol of Moonriver Castle, the banner of Lord Garrick. The standards of green cloth were blazoned with three tall white towers, each of which was tipped with an emerald. Two enormous trees flanked the outermost towers. Loric knew that symbol as the Emerald Spires, which was the mark of Lord Aldric’s people in Egolstadt. The red banners were embroidered with the silhouette of a knight trimmed in silver, just like Palendar’s surcoat and shield. That was the Guardian Knight, the symbol of House Logant, whose first sons had lorded over Belgandost until the fall of Sir Galendar and the mysterious departure of Sir Palendar.

As Loric looked upon that noble flag, he thought once again of his theft and his unbidden departure from his home in Taeglin. As he considered his sins against his father and mother, he felt terrible shame for the lies of his oath, and he decided that had been the worst. He was Loric son of Sir Palendar, who was rightfully the Lord of Belgandost, the Guardian of the Kingdom and the First Knight of Beledon and Moonriver. Reminded of those great honors, Loric suddenly doubted whether he was a clean man.

“Was he a clean man?” Loric asked absently of his father. In response to Lord Aldric’s bewildered expression, he clarified, “That knight you spoke of earlier--Sir Palendar, was it?”

“The purest of all knights,” Aldric choked. “No knight in Beledon was the measure of that knight.”

“Well, do tell his tale then,” Avalana pleaded, “for purity and knighthood seem as

juxtaposed as virginity and adultery.”

“Avalana!”
Avalar snapped.

Aldric waved the king down as before and agreed with the princess. “Your lovely daughter speaks the truth, I fear,” he said ashamedly. “But this one....” he looked at Loric and finished

“....he was special. He was the model for every knight of every order. He was virtuous and honorable, and on my word, he would not fight a brother, even when provoked-”

“What happened to him, lord?” Avalana begged. “It seems that your savage country could use many of this man to lead it out of darkness.”

“Must you continually insult your host, Avalana?” her father demanded.

“Think nothing of it,” Aldric assured Avalar. “To our great chagrin, he went off on an important, but dangerous quest, and he never returned.

“How very sad?” murmured Avalana.

“Indeed it is,” Avalar commented.

“Sir Palendar’s star has fallen, leaving us bereft of great knights,” Aldric added mournfully.

“It is out of respect for him that his banner still hangs from these walls, but his name is no longer spoken at Lord Garrick’s court. I do not think the land will ever know another like him,” Aldric ventured. He let his keen eyes rest upon Loric and said, as if to himself, “But one can never be certain. Perhaps another clean man will rise for Beledon.”

Loric wanted to take on his father’s mantle, but he felt so dirty that he wondered if he could.

His wrongful deeds and false words had soiled him. With things being as they were, he doubted whether he could ever be a clean man.

Chapter Nine

Lies of Lords

Lord Aldric announced himself to the wall guards, two levels above, and the great gates of Moonriver Castle began their slow groan. They inched inward to reveal a high-vaulted corridor.

The road passed through the gatehouse and halted at a heavy, iron portcullis. A huge courtyard awaited the travelers beyond that cross-grid barrier. The portcullis began its ascent ahead of Aldric and his company, with many a
creak
and a
pop
, as men wound its chains taut about a spool. It finally stopped climbing with a noisy
clang.

Aldric led his host through the tunnel and out beyond the portcullis to enter the beautiful courtyard. The large flagstones of the Old King’s Way gave way to a wide lane of small polished stones, which was lined on each side by lovely trees with deep green leaves in odd-pinnate form and light pink blossoms that had multi-layered petals. Beyond those blossoming Rianamora trees, so-named for King Donigan’s lovely queen of old, one could distinguish a magnificent garden to the left and an open field to the right. Straight ahead, lay the massive portico of the keep itself.

Several men-at-arms stood at the entrance, each of them bearing a spear and a shield. Upon the party’s approach, one man stepped out from his fellows. Loric noted that he was adorned in better garb than were his companions, so he deemed him their leader. He was of average height, but he was stout of frame nevertheless. His golden hair fell to his shoulders, where the breeze teased it. Green eyes stared out of a stern face that was handsomely suited to his proud gaze, with the pair of them squinting periodically to keep them moistened against wind drying them. The man was clothed all in aqua, except for the wine-red cloak draped neatly about him. It was held secure by a silver brooch shaped in the likeness of the Moonriver Insignia, which depicted a moon alongside a tower that was resting atop a squiggly band dotted with diamonds. He bore a sword of fine make, but it could not match the Sword of Logant or Aldric’s blade,
Judgment
, for beauty and craftsmanship.

Loric panicked. He had forgotten to remove his sword and pack it away as he had sworn to do before his arrival at Moonriver. He at once regretted his mistake, but all he could do was wrap Avalana’s dampened cloak more securely about his person to cover the shiny hilt and decorative scabbard at his side. He breathed a prayer that the guards might spare him handing his blade over at the gate.