Fire And Ice (Book 1) (5 page)

             
As he rode down the wide boulevard he was assaulted by familiar sounds and smells.  The cries of hawkers when he passed through one of the market areas and the smells of food brought from afar were the sensations of home.  Everything was almost identical to the day he had left this place behind.  It was as if he had never left at all. 

             
He passed by a single story, stone building with a small square tower at the front where a bell was housed.  A man in robes of pure white emerged from the doorway.  A priest of the Light, and the building was their temple.  The priests performed the rights over the dead, and presided over marriages.
And generally found ways to make a
nuisance of themselves when no one died or got married.
  He chuckled to himself.  That was what they used to say as children when they had to listen to some of them preach about the purity of the Light and man’s responsibilities in bringing the Light to the world. The problem was that there were as many theories on how to do that as there were cities full of people to hear them.  When one is trained to fight it is difficult to hear about living peaceably with one’s neighbors, or that violence is evil.  Just as difficult was listening to the idea of spreading the Light by the sword, since as warriors the idea was to bring about peace and defend it.                   

             
Before he knew it his horse stopped before another high wall and strong iron gates that separated the palace from the rest of the city.  A grimacing guard in a rumpled uniform approached.  That did not say much for the guard since most of those who served the king took more pride in their appearance.  Before he could speak, another, younger guard hurried to his side and whispered in the man’s ear.  The second man’s uniform was nearly spotless.  The first guard took a second look at Coran, then waved him past, perhaps a touch disappointed he was not able to turn him away.  The second guard just shook his head at the first.

             
Coran passed through the gate.  From one of the buildings that lined each side of the spacious courtyard came the rhythmic ringing of hammer on steel, a boy emerged from another wearing blue livery, with a small sun sewn on the left breast and took the reins of his horse.  The livery was too large for him and hung loosely from the shoulders.  Coran swung to the ground, grabbed his bags from behind the saddle, including the wrapped bundle, and walked towards the welcoming doors of the palace.  He took the steps before the open doorway two at a time and entered a high vaulted entry hall.  White columns lined each side of the hall; doors to other parts of the palace were set between them.  A skinny, sharp-nosed and gray-haired man was walking across the hall when he stopped cold at the sight of Coran.

             
“Coran?” the aged Herrith asked.  He was the man who saw to the day to day business of running the kingdom, much like Kirsire in Tyelin.  He would receive the reports of expenses and income, legal disputes and anything else that was necessary to know.  They would handle the mundane matters, only reporting to their Lords on what course they took.  Otherwise, they brought forward only important matters.  Coran knew that without Kirsire’s efficient skills at organization and prioritizing he would have been at a loss.  To do such a job himself would have left him with time for nothing else.  “It is you,” Herrith said as he came closer.  “It is good to see you again.  I know the palace has not been the same without you.”

             
“It is good to be back,” Coran agreed truthfully.  “Do you happen to know where my father is?”

             
The old man nodded.  “He is with the King in his Majesty’s study.”

             
“And the others?” 

Herrith smiled.  “If you mean their Highnesses, the King’s daughters, they could still be in their rooms, or they might be out in the garden, since it is such a nice day.”

              “Thank you, Master Herrith.”

             
He left Herrith and continued down the hall.  He wanted to see the girls, but it would be more proper to see his father first.  He went up a flight of stairs and rounded a stone corner.  About halfway down the hall a guard stood at attention beside a dark wooden door.  Coran slowed from his eager pace and approached the guard.

             
“Coran Tyelin to see my father,” he announced himself.

             
The guard stuck his head in the door and spoke briefly with someone inside before motioning Coran to enter.  Stemis sat behind his cluttered oak desk in a red shirt and open coat.  Oran stood off to one side, his back straight and his chin high as always.

             
“Coran!” the King exclaimed.  “I am glad you are here.  Oran here was going to send a message to you tomorrow.”

             
Coran raised one eyebrow at his father. 

             
“You were requested to attend her Highness’s birthday celebration,” Oran reported evenly.  Then a thin smile spread on his lips.  “But I missed you too.”

             
“We all did,” Stemis added.  “I am glad you came here first, but we can talk about things later.  If my daughters found out that I kept you from them I wouldn’t hear the end of it.  So you had better go and find them.  That is, unless you saw them already?”

             
“I came to see my father first.” 

             
“Of course, I should have known with your sense of duty.  It was inherited from your father.”  Stemis looked fondly at his oldest friend.  “Now you should go.”  He waved his hand towards the door. 

“Father?” Coran asked respectfully for permission to leave.

              “Go on,” Oran told him.  “If you think those girls would be any easier on me you are wrong.”

             
  He needed no further urging and left the study glad that they understood.  He also caught the words of Stemis.  The King had said they had things to talk about, not to catch up on.  Maybe he had really meant to say the latter.  It was a worry for later if a worry at all.  Probably nothing important.

              Coran went to the wing of the palace that contained the rooms of the royal family only to find that they were not there.  A woman with dark hair mixed with gray was coming out of the rooms that had been Katelyn’s when he left.  She carried an empty pitcher for water and some towels.

             
“Carlinya,” he greeted the First Maid. 

             
“Coran?  I did not know you were here,” she replied warmly.

             
“I just arrived and was looking for Margery and Katelyn.”

             
“They might be in the garden, or with their father.”

             
“They are not with his Majesty.  I just came from there.”

             
“The garden then,” she told him.

             
“Thank you.”

             
He took Carlinya and Herrith’s suggestion and tried the gardens at the rear of the palace next.  As he walked the stone path between meticulously trimmed hedges he noticed that the various types of trees were filling out nicely.  He came to an open area at the center of the garden where marble benches sat on a carpet of green grass around a circular, man-made pool.  At the opposite end of the clearing he spotted the backs of two well-dressed women.  The blond girl in a yellow dress stood a few inches taller than her companion, a girl in blue whose black hair, bound by a blue scarf and nearly reaching her waist, swung from side to side as she walked.  He was surprised to see that it was the same scarf he had given her on the day he had left for Tyelin.  Coran came up behind them quietly and followed a few feet back.

             
“Are you excited about your birthday?” Margery asked.  “It is a special time when you turn sixteen.  I know I was excited when it was mine.”

             
“Of course,” Katelyn responded in a voice that was fuller and surer than the one Coran remembered.  “I had a new dress made especially for the occasion.”

             
“Keeping secrets from your sister?” the older princess teased.  “Well, I cannot wait to see it.”

             
“Neither can I,” Coran agreed calmly, as if he had been a part of the conversation from the beginning.  If he hadn’t been ready he would have run right into the two startled women.  They stopped dead in their tracks and slowly turned to face him.  Once they were sure it was him they both threw their arms around him.  He almost dropped his packs, including the one containing the wrapped bundle.

             
“I cannot believe you are here,” Katelyn looked up into his face.

             
Coran was startled himself by the changes he saw in her.  She was no longer the awkward girl he once knew, but a beautiful young woman.  Margery gave him another hug before stepping back.  Her sister held on for a moment longer then did the same.

             
“Not that I am not happy, I am, but why are you here?” Margery questioned.

             
“I wanted to see my two favorite people in the world,” he answered with a wide smile of his own.

“Seriously,” Margery told him in a no nonsense tone.

              “I mean it,” he protested, then continued in a genuine voice.  “I really did miss you.  Both of you.”  They beamed at him.

             
“You have to tell us what you have been up to,” the older sister stated.

             
“Yes,” Katelyn added.  “Tell us everything.”

             
He wasn’t going to tell them everything, not now when he just got back, but he walked between them and started telling them about Tyelin and the people there.  He didn’t go into too much detail so it did not take long for him to finish.  “So what have I missed around here?”

             
“As I am sure you noticed, my sister has gotten over her aversions, and has become a proper lady at last,” Margery informed him, “at least most of the time.”

             
Coran looked the dark haired princess over.  “I can see that, but tell me you have not given up your sword work.”

             
“Of course not,” she told him raising her chin.  “I could give you a challenge.”

             
“We will have to test that sometime,” he said fighting the smile that threatened to show on his face.  It was not for her boasting, but for the way she stared at him so defiantly. She hadn’t changed that much.  He reached out to touch the scarf that bound her hair.  “You still have it.”

             
For some reason her cheeks reddened.  “Of course I still have it.  It was a gift after all.”

             
“She wears it quite often,” Margery informed him.  She was doing nothing to stop her wide grin.

             
He could tell that Katelyn was uncomfortable about something, and Margery knew what, so decided not to pursue the subject.  “I am glad you liked it so much.”  He did not think it was much of a gift at the time, but he had little time in which to find something.

             
“Do you have a room to stay in yet?” the younger woman asked, changing the subject. 

             
“No. I just arrived.”

             
She looked at the bags he still carried on his arm.  “I think the room you used after finishing your training is still yours if you want it.”

             
“That would be fine,” he told her and they started for the door to the palace.  He wanted to get rid of his luggage.

             
“What is that?” Katelyn asked him pointing to the long wrapped bundle in his left hand.

             
“Nothing important,” he said carefully, maybe too carefully because she glanced at him suspiciously.

             
Her suspicion quickly disappeared and was replaced by a wide smile.  “Is it for me?”

             
He couldn’t help laughing at the way her eyes lit up when she asked.  “You got me.  But you have to wait for your birthday.”

             
“But that is two weeks away,” she protested.

             
“Patience.  You can wait.”

             
“All right,” she sighed, then her face brightened.  “You are here and that is present enough for now.”

             
He caught a knowing look pass from older to younger sister.  He thought things seemed the same.  That might be true on the surface, but Katelyn’s transformation, and not knowing what the look was for was not the way he remembered.  He wished he knew what it meant, and wondered what other things might have changed since he had been away. 

              Coran tossed the bags down on the bed in the rooms he had used while staying here from the time he had first arrived from Tyelin, to when he left last year.  The only exception being the year he had to live in the barracks with the other novices in the final stages of training.  When the training was done the test for knighthood was given.  Almost all who made it that far passed to become knights of Midia.  Depending on the kingdom, knighthood was restricted to nobles.  On the Sun Plain it was not.  Anyone who could afford the training could try and become a knight.  There were some nobles who resented such an idea, but not too loudly.  It was Soros himself who first opened the training to all.