Road To Shandara (Book One of The Safanarion Order) (19 page)

“Of course,” said the guard. “After you my Lord.”

The crowded streets parted ways to allow them quick passage and Aaron quickly lost track of where they were in the sea of city streets. One thing that stood out to him was how clean the streets were and the buildings were well kept. All the people he saw so far were quite friendly, which was a change from the reserved receptions from the smaller towns. Not that the people from the smaller towns weren’t friendly, but there was a general mistrust of strangers and a feeling of vulnerability. Like the citizens of the small town felt almost powerless against the armed men that would come to their town. The realization made him appreciate his home more and more and demanded respect for how far people have come. How would the Prince feel about the Elitesman victimizing the people of the smaller towns and would he be able to do anything about it?

The walls surrounding the palace grounds were visible since they had entered the city and as they got closer their tallness became much more apparent. They were met at the gates by the palace guards who took over as escort. The site of the palace left Aaron’s mouth hanging open at the sheer size and meticulous detail of the facade architecture down to the smallest window. It was not only a place of power, but of beauty as well and Aaron couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated as they got closer.

A steward came to collect them and escorted them through the palace. They didn’t need an armed escort because there were guards everywhere Aaron looked and they were hardly prisoners. The place was busy with the comings and goings of all types of people. The steward brought them to the great hall which was a cavernous room filled with floor to ceiling windows that gave a beautiful view of the palace grounds. Once again the sheer wealth of the place continued to impress upon him whom he was meeting with.

The Prince glanced up as they approached and raised his bushy brow quizzically then returned his attention to the group of people already before him. A palace guard, of some rank judging by the adornment of his uniform, moved to stand between them and view of the prince surveying them. Verona spoke a few hushed words to the steward and the guard, but the guard seemed bothered by the sight of Aaron.

“Knight Lieutenant I will vouch for him upon my honor,” said Verona.

“With all due respect my lord the safety of his grace is my responsibility and I cannot have a stranger so heavily armed in his presence," replied the lieutenant.

“I’m sorry is there a problem?” Aaron asked coming next to Verona.

“Yes sir, I must request that you remove your weapons at once prior to meeting with his grace.” The Lieutenant answered.

“Why?” Aaron asked before Verona could interject.

The Lieutenant narrowed his gaze pointedly before answering, “You represent a security risk to his grace. I must insist that you disarm yourself at once.” He said and grim looking guards began to move in to surround them.

“I see," said Aaron nodding in understanding, pursing his lips. “I’m sorry I cannot comply with your request. You see, with all the heavily armed guards in the vicinity representing a clear security risk to myself and my companions. I would be remiss in my duty to them and myself if I were to let such a risk go unchecked.” Aaron countered calmly returning the Knight Lieutenants gaze.

“Come now, what is the hold up over there," barked the Prince from his throne behind them.

The lieutenant turned and bowed, “Your grace this man is refusing to disarm in your presence.”

“Well,” started the Prince.

“Uncle, I will vouch for the quality of this man upon my honor. I humbly ask that you hear us out in your private chambers for I have a tale to tell that I believe you will find most interesting.” Verona stopped as the Prince held up his hand.

“Ahh my dear nephew Verona, as poetic as always,” the Prince said with half a smile which vanished instantly when he looked directly upon Aaron. The prince had a hard look to him with his graying beard like a person who commanded respect. Much like his grandfather Reymius’s presence commanded the respect of those around him, “Who are you sir that inspires such poetry from my nephew’s lips?”

Aaron felt his mouth go dry as he gazed back into the eyes of the Prince. “I am Aaron Jace.” Aaron began.

“Uncle I must insist that we discuss this matter in private.” Verona stated again.

The Prince’s eyes searched the faces of the men standing with Aaron, “Vaughn I see you’ve been looking after my nephew these past few weeks. It’s good to see you sir.”

“Likewise your grace," Vaughn replied. “But I must agree with Verona upon the urgency of the matters we need to discuss with you.”

“I see,” said the Prince. “Yes it must be of grave importance for you to have returned so quickly after my guards chased most of you out the city upon your last visit. Don’t think for second I’ve forgotten about that little stunt Verona.”

Sarik would not stop looking at the floor, his ears red. Erik and Braden calmly surveyed the room with calm patience. Vaughn and Garret simply nodded, but before Verona could speak Aaron stepped forward.

“Colind of the Guardians bid me to seek out your council sir. Please if I may have a few moments of your time. I’ve travelled a long way to get here.” Aaron said.

The Prince looked at Aaron considering, “You look quite familiar to me. Have I met your father perchance?” he asked.

“I’m quite certain you’ve never met my father, but you knew my grandfather Reymius Alenzar’seth.” Aaron said.

The Prince’s grey eyes hardened as he rose from his seat taking a few steps to stand before Aaron. “Thats a bold claim or a fools claim,” he said quietly

Aaron calmly met the Prince’s gaze. “The situation calls for both at times, but I assure you Reymius was my grandfather.” He had come this far because Colind’s last words were that Prince Cyrus could help him return to Shandara. He must journey to Shandara to free Colind from his prison. He needed Colind’s help to avenge his family or he would continue to be hunted or worse.

The Prince studied Aaron for a few moments, “Ok Verona, we shall do as you requested and retire to my private chambers.” He glanced back at the steward, “Please have some food brought up as I suspect we will be talking for a long time.”

The steward bowed and left the great hall. The rest of them followed the Prince through a doorway off to the right and entered a smaller room.

They spoke at length with Verona and Aaron taking turns recounting the events since they had met. The Prince was particularly interested about Aaron’s home and where Reymius had been for the past twenty-five years, but Aaron could tell he was doubtful. Even showing the medallion and tattoo did little to sway the mind of the Prince.

“Surely you must know something about why Reymius left? How he left and why he stayed away?” Prince Cyrus asked.

“I’m sorry I don’t know why he left. Maybe he couldn’t get back. My mother’s memories were gone and only bits and pieces returned after he died. All he left me was," Aaron paused. He had almost forgotten and cursed himself for not remembering sooner. “Would you recognize Reymius’s signature if you saw it,” Aaron asked.

The Prince waited a few moments pacing the room then turned to Aaron, “I believe so, but I can go further than that. I have documents in my possession that bear his signature.” The Prince said smiling and then asked, “You mentioned your mother is she here?”

Aaron felt like he was punched in the stomach and slowly shook his head. “She’s dead.”

The Prince looked at him in sympathy, “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Aaron dug into his pack and took out the letter his grandfather had left for him. The letter was folded and worn because he would constantly reread it hoping to glean more information. He carefully opened the letter and passed it to the Prince who took it gently and looked at it intently. After a few moments he looked up at Aaron.

“You seem like a genuine person Aaron. I realize this could not have been easy for you. There is a close likeness in this signature.” Said the Prince and he held up his hand before Verona could interject, “Enough for me to have my scribes pull the documents I mentioned before from the archives so we can compare. However, this will take some time and I must insist you remain as a guest and attend the celebration this evening.” The Prince said handing Aaron’s letter back to him and requested that Verona stay behind a moment.

Aaron nodded and an agreement was made to speak more tomorrow. They all left the room except for Verona and Vaughn. The Prince took a long swallow from his goblet of wine and regarded Verona for a moment.

“Do you realize what you’re getting yourself into Verona?” asked the Prince. “His likeness to the house of Alenzar’seth is remarkable to say the least. His stance, the way he speaks all remind me of Reymius when we were young, but I also see Carlowen in him as well.” The Prince said with a pained expression.

“Then why don’t you believe that he is who he says he is Uncle?” asked Verona. “Why won’t you acknowledge the truth before your eyes? He is a good man and he is in need of our aid. He challenges the might of the Elite.”

“Because if this is true it will mean war,” said the Prince in hardened tone. “War with the High King and the Council of the Elite. Not to mention Mactar the Dark Light Master and his twisted evil ways. If what Aaron says is true and he is of the house of Alenzar’seth then he will be the herald of death for many. War of the likes we’ve never seen.”

“My lord," began Vaughn. “The Alenzar’seth’s protected the lands of Safanar from shadow for generations. If they are in need of aid then we should give it to them. They are owed at least that much regardless of the circumstances surrounding the fall of Shandara.”

“I understand what you are saying Vaughn, but the repercussions of this will be felt by all. Some would argue that it’s the Alenzar’seth’s failure that cursed the kingdom of Shandara in the first place.” The Prince sighed. “I’m not saying I do, but we all need to tread carefully for this is a slippery slope to be upon.”

Verona stood up, “Uncle, I respect your council, but I have given Aaron my word. I will see this through with him to the end wherever that may take us. Right is right. Who are we if we are not men of honor? No better than the High King, the Council, or the dreaded Dark Light Master,” he finished quietly and left the room.

The Prince calmly surveyed the room with Verona’s departure deep in thought. “That boy can certainly find trouble wherever he goes,” the Prince sighed. “Verona is an idealist. Who will stand with us should we choose to go down this road?” asked the Prince.

“Cyrus," Vaughn said gently. He would only call his Prince by his name in private for they had been friends for a long time. “I’ve watched over Verona as you asked. He is a man trying to live up to his principals, much like Aaron. While Aaron may have had a darker time of it recently or so I can glean from my charge,” he said with a slight smirk. “It sounds as if he was perfectly happy until Reymius's passing, which leads me to believe that he was safe. Carlowen was safe and Cassandra’s sacrifice was not in vain. Perhaps when the night is darkest its the idealists of the world that can light our way and bring others to our cause. It is something to consider.” With those words Vaughn quietly left the Prince to his thoughts and the memories he helped dredge up from a distant past.

***

Aaron shook his head feeling a little frustrated. On some level he could understand the Prince’s caution because he had literally showed up on his doorstep with this fantastical story. It had all happened to him and he was still struggling with the events that brought him here. They were being escorted to a suite of rooms for their use and Aaron found himself walking quietly next to Garret.

“Patience Aaron. This is a lot to digest for the Prince," said Garret calmly. “Your grandfather and the Prince were close friends in their youth and he mourned the loss of your family for a long time. The events surrounding the collapse of Shandara is shrouded in mystery, which left one of the most ancient and brighter spots of Safanar in darkness.” Garret said placing a gentle hand on Aaron’s shoulder.

“I guess I understand," Aaron sighed. “But we may not have the luxury of time. I feel that everywhere I go I place people in danger. If we linger here too long then something...anything is going to happen.” Aaron said with his teeth clenching and then he sighed again. He had to keep moving and yet he was so tired.

“Again patience. Rest. I’m sure you know the importance of clear mind when it comes to making decisions,” said Garret.

“Anger clouds the mind even for those with the purest of intentions.” Aaron smirked. Garret was reminding him more of his father at the moment with his calm council and a lump began to fill his throat. He forced the lump down. No time to mourn. He forced his thoughts to what he could change, a shower to wash away the road, but a question tugged at his mind.

“Safanar?” Aaron asked.

Garret regarded him for a moment in surprise, “Yes the name of this world.” Before Aaron could reply Garret continued, “The baths are this way and I will see that a fresh set of clothes is made available to you.”

Aaron thanked Garret and grew excited at the thought of being clean and actually sleeping in a bed tonight.

C
HAPTER
19

A DANCE

THE BATHS WERE pure joy and a surprising amount of dirt was left in the marble tub which was the size of a small pool. A pretty young girl brought towels and the clothes Garret had promised. Aaron blushed a little at the offer to wash his back, which he politely refused. He did however, note the slight pause and lingering stare at the dragon tattoo on his chest that had nothing to do with desire. Eric poked his head in the door and asked if there was anything he needed to which Aaron replied something about privacy. Either Eric or Braden were always outside his door and neither had left his side since entering the palace. When he asked why they were outside his room they politely smiled and nodded that this was their place. If the room he was in was considered a ‘guest’ room Aaron wondered what the rest of the palace looked like. The room was cavernous with tall ceilings, windows with laurel carvings of simple elegance and a four poster king sized bed. The bed was either perfect or he was so tired that he fell asleep the moment he laid down with the sun being considerably lower in the sky when he woke up. A soft knock at the door roused Aaron from his bed.