Lord of the White Hell Book One lotwh-1 (19 page)

All flurry of action and noise seemed muted and distant to Kiram. The prince's guards surrounded them and they ascended the stairs up into the stands. The pages trailed behind them.

The seats in the prince's box were padded with purple velvet. The surrounding wood walls were gilded and painted with images of horses and armored men in battle. As soon as the prince seated himself, a page knelt to wipe the dust from his boots, while another page brought wine and a small pastry of some kind. Javier sat beside the prince and pulled Kiram down next to him.

Not wanting to be caught staring at the prince, Kiram averted his gaze down to the arena below. First-year students from both schools assembled for the first contests. Six fencing rings had been drawn up and Kiram guessed the fights would be quick. The best of the first years would go on to challenge the second-year students.

"So how did this come about?" Prince Sevanyo asked Javier, though he indicated Kiram with his wine glass.

"This is Kiram Kir-Zaki. He won the Silver Leaf Challenge last year." Javier stretched out in his seat. "Scholar Donamillo was so impressed with him that he petitioned for Kiram to be invited to attend the Sagrada Academy. Kiram accepted and now he's my underclassman."

"I had heard that a Haldiim won the Silver Leaf, though I hadn't imagined that he would be so young. " Sevanyo studied Kiram, frowning slightly. "You are young, are you not? It's hard to tell with you Haldiim. You all look like boys."

"I am seventeen, sir-Your Highness." Kiram was horrified at his own gaffe but the prince just laughed.

"Now, why do I know the name Kir-Zaki?" the prince asked.

"His family makes the Kir-Zaki candies in Anacleto," Javier replied.

"Of course." Prince Sevanyo looked delighted. "I am told that I have them to thank for the proliferation of Grunitos throughout the kingdom."

"Yfes." Kiram tried to sound steady. "Nestor Grunito says as much himself."

"You must get Javier to eat more of those candies, then. We are in need of Tornesal heirs, you know."

"The world needs more Tornesals like it needs another great flood," Javier said.

"I would be greatly displeased if Rauma fell into my brother's hands, Javier." The prince sounded suddenly very serious. Javier nodded.

"It will not. Fedeles is my heir."

"Fedeles is not fit."

"He's improving steadily," Javier replied. "And I have no intention of dying any time soon.When I do, Rauma will pass to Fedeles' children in the Quemanor house. Your brother, the royal bishop, will not have it."

Prince Sevanyo sighed. A page refilled the prince's wine glass. He offered a glass to Javier as well but Javier waved it aside.

Another page arrived and offered Prince Sevanyo a silver tray stacked with small pieces of creamy paper. Each of them bore the seal of some noble house or a merchant's name. The prince chose several of them but told the page not to extend the invitations just yet.

Kiram stole another glance down to the arena below, where pairs of first-year students dressed in thick leather cuirasses fought with blunted silver blades. Only the crests on their gauntlets designated which school they came from. Judges in white coats walked between the contestants, calling fouls and strikes. The fights were fast and most ended amiably. Javier watched them intently but the prince was obviously bored.

Prince Sevanyo leaned forward a little to study Kiram. He didn't quite look at Kiram's face but instead seemed to be gazing at his hair.

"It really is quite an amazing color," Prince Sevanyo commented. He reached past Javier and caught a curl of Kiram's hair. Kiram froze in place. The prince pulled the lock of hair straight and then released it to bounce back into a spiral.

"You know, one of my ancestors had a cloak made entirely from Haldiim scalps," Prince Sevanyo said quietly. "I used to play with it when I was a boy. It really was the most beautiful thing. The leather was soft as silk and the hair looked just like long curling ribbons of gold. I loved it madly. When I turned ten I was told where the hides had come from."

A cold sick feeling gripped Kiram. Javier scowled at the prince but said nothing.

Prince Sevanyo took another sip of his wine. "I cannot tell you how horrified I was to discover how that cloak had been made. I could not bear to even look at it, much less touch it again. I burned it and then I cried all night. To this day I am not sure whether I was crying because I lost something I loved or because I had loved it in the first place."

Kiram had no idea what to say in response. But the prince didn't seem to expect any answer.

"I have not met many Haldiim in my life but whenever I do I am always struck by the thought that I am at last admiring those lovely curls as I ought to have in the first place. It's as though I am seeing the owners of those scalps reborn into better lives. That's what your priests would say, isn't it?"

Kiram wasn't sure but the prince seemed intent on this so Kiram nodded and the prince smiled.

"Even if you Haldiim are denied our holy heaven, I would like to believe that your souls can find some kind of peace." The prince sat forward again but to Kiram's relief he didn't reach for his hair. "I am told that your dead are reborn into other forms and if they have been wronged they can return as a curse."

"Yfes." Kiram wished that Javier would say something but Javier just leaned back in the seat and looked tired.

"How do you Haldiim lift these curses?" Prince Sevanyo's expression was intent and his tone very serious. "Without the solace of heaven how can you put an angry soul to rest?"

Kiram glanced to Javier, but Javier only shrugged.

"I don't know," Kiram admitted. "I'm not from a religious family, Your Highness. We never discuss these matters. I'm sorry."

"Not religious?" The prince looked stunned for a moment then gave a short laugh. "Did you hear that, Javier?"

"I did," Javier replied. He gave Kiram a quick apologetic look.

"Tell me," the prince said to Kiram, "if you are not religious, then what do you make of Javier and the white hell, young Haldiim?"

"I.I don't know," Kiram replied.

Beside him, Javier sighed. "When he thinks of me at all, he thinks I'm an ass who keeps interrupting his work for the Crown Challenge with annoying, superstitious babble."

Prince Sevanyo raised his brows.

"Really?"

"Really," Javier replied firmly and something unspoken seemed to pass between Prince Sevanyo and Javier. The prince sighed and took another sip of his wine.

"The Crown Challenge. That will be quite an accomplishment." The intensity dropped from Prince Sevanyo's voice leaving only a polite interest. "I suppose it's good then that you are receiving a proper Cadeleonian education. My father loves to retain geniuses at his court. No doubt he will want you there. He is quite sure that we are moving into a new age of mechanist wonders, but I cannot help but find them eerie-mechanisms without life or souls, moving about like living things."

Kiram had heard the same sentiments before, generally from older people. He considered his reply, but then Javier caught his arm and pulled him forward to the edge of the box.

"Watch out for this one, Kiram." Javier pointed to a young man in one of the fencing circles. He looked tall for a first-year student and his face was oddly expressionless.

"Ariz Plunado?" the prince asked.

Javier nodded.

"Bland thing, isn't he?" Prince Sevanyo commented.

Kiram found himself in agreement with the prince. Not even the reddish tint of Ariz's hair lent any character to his appearance. He moved quickly, but without grace or emotion.

He lunged forward. His opponent easily parried his strike, but then suddenly stumbled and fell to the ground. Ariz placed his blade to the fallen man's heart and was immediately declared the winner. Only then did Ariz allow himself a small, satisfied smile.

"Well, there is something to him after all, isn't there?" Prince Sevanyo commented.

"Did you see what he did?" Javier asked Kiram.

"No," Kiram admitted.

"All the time that they were fencing Ariz kept tripping his opponent until he finally brought him down. It's the second time he's won that way. Keep your feet in close when you're up against him. Make him overextend to get at you."

"I'll try," Kiram replied, though he had no idea how he would manage any such thing.

The three of them watched another pair of first-year students duel. Kiram's attention wandered and he found himself searching the stands for his uncle.

"Tell me, Kiram, have you thought of conversion?" Prince Sevanyo asked.

"What?" Kiram looked up quickly.

"Have you considered converting to the Holy Cadeleonian Church?" Prince Sevanyo briefly glanced to another of his pages and accepted two more papers with noble seals embossed upon them. "If you are to attend the royal court you ought to do so. Otherwise you'll have half the courtiers spreading nasty rumors about your private habits before they've even laid eyes on you. Taking a Cadeleonian wife would help as well. Probably one of those charming merchant girls. You aren't already engaged, are you?"

"No," Kiram said, though he immediately regretted it.

"One of my bailiffs has a daughter who would be just about the right age." The prince nodded as he considered the prospect.

Alarm shot through Kiram.

"I.I really couldn't marry right now," Kiram managed.

"Of course not now," the prince replied. "You must finish your schooling first. But it's always wise to have your plans in order, you know."

Kiram wondered how it was possible that a Cadeleonian prince could fill him with the same cold, trapped fear that his mother often inspired. He thought that it had to be something about older people. So many of them seemed intent upon planning his future for him. Both the prince and his mother seemed so sure of what would be best for him that they were already working out the details.

Conversion. Marriage. Living at court. Taking over his father's shop. Living at home for the rest of his life.

He didn't want either of the lives they planned for him.

"The first years are almost done," Javier announced. "We should get back down to the rest of the students. Kiram still needs to change into his cuirass and byrnie."

"It's good to see you take a responsibility so seriously, Javier," Prince Sevanyo commented.

"A man must serve his obligations. Though I won't deny that I have a sizable wager on Kiram to best Elezar Grunito's underclassman."

Javier stood, as did the prince, and they embraced.

"Thank you for coming, Sevanyo," Javier said into Sevanyo's shoulder.

"Of course. It's always a pleasure to see you. But do take care of yourself, Javier." Prince Sevanyo stepped back reluctantly. He looked at Kiram. "I look forward to seeing you again, Kiram Kir-Zaki. Look after Javier for me, won't you? Slip him some of those candies when you can."

On the stairs outside, dozens of well-dressed men stood waiting to be admitted in to attend the prince. They bowed their heads respectfully as Javier passed but several of them glared at Kiram as if his presence among them was distasteful.

"Ignore them," Javier whispered over his shoulder.

When they reached the lower stands where the rest of the academy students were gathered, Kiram flopped onto a hard seat of the bench next to Nestor. Javier remained standing, leaning against a wooden support. The nearest pair of combatants on the arena floor were only a few feet away. Kiram could hear them gasping for air and smell the sweat pouring down their arms and legs.

Javier studied them like a cat watching swallows. Other students glanced up from time to time but most were involved in their own preoccupations. The only change came when a winner was announced. Every Sagrada Academy student cheered for one of their own. Defeated students were greeted with disinterest. Master Ignacio hardly even glanced to them.

Farther down the bench Elezar stood close to two other third-year students and Kiram was sure he glimpsed money pass between them. Elezar was collecting winnings from his wagers already.

Kiram wondered if Javier had actually placed a wager on him. He hoped not.

"So, how was it?" Nestor asked Kiram. "What did the prince say?"

"He wants Kiram to convert, marry a nice Cadeleonian girl, and come live at court," Javier said.

"Convert and marry and move to the court?" Nestor rolled his eyes. "Why doesn't he ask him to shave his head and buy a monkey while he's at it?"

One of the judges on the arena floor signaled a win for the Sagrada Academy, waving a small blue banner over the head of a winded young man. Kiram had no idea who he was but he cheered along with the rest of the academy students.

It had been the student's fifth duel and he would not be expected to fight again today. The exhausted first-year student staggered back to the stands and collapsed onto the bench.

"Prince Sevanyo means well. He just doesn't know when he's asking too much of someone or even telling them too much." Javier glanced to Kiram. "He didn't offend you, did he?"

"No, he surprised me. I guess I wasn't expecting.Well, I didn't know what to expect." Kiram looked up to where Javier stood. "I wish I could have answered his questions."

"What questions?" Nestor asked.

"He wanted to know about the Haldiim religion," Kiram replied. "I couldn't tell him too much because my family isn't religious."

"Lucky." Nestor sighed. "My mother made us recite a verse of her choosing before she would let us sit down to dinner each night. I memorized the entire Book of Redemption just for the love of a hot meal." Nestor shook his head. "I still don't know what half of it is supposed to be about."

"Redemption, I'd imagine," Javier said.

"I guess, but every time I hear a verse all I can imagine is piping hot roast beef."

"Chapel sermons must be oddly appetizing for you," Javier remarked.

Nestor nodded. "I always leave hungry."

"Maybe you should convert to my faith," Kiram said. "On the Highest Holy Days the Bahiim prepare huge feasts and anyone who comes to the Holy Gardens is fed and offered honey wine."