The Halfblood King: Book 1 of the Chronicles of Aertu (12 page)

Chapter 12

Zorekday, Day 18, Growing Moon, 8760 Sudean Calendar

Eilowyn reached over and grabbed Aleron’s hand.  “Come then, let’s go see it.  I’m so glad you are here.  I haven’t had anyone new to talk to in such a long time, especially none as handsome as you.”  Aleron blushed again, but said nothing for the moment.  “You would not believe what it’s like to live here, with people about you all the time.  I have no privacy from the moment I open my eyes in the morning, to the moment I close them at night, all for my ‘protection’, they say.”

“That would be hard to deal with,” Aleron agreed.  “I don’t know if I could bear living in a palace, nice as it seems.”

“What was it like living in the country?”

“I don’t know, really, how to describe it.  I did a lot of fishing with my friends, helping them with their farm work and helping the woodsmen and townsfolk with their work.  Grandfather always wanted me to stay busy.  He said it was so I could find my trade.”

“Did you discover your calling then?”

“I think I did as soon as Grandfather began teaching me to fight.  He told me all the stories of his time in the army and I knew I wanted something like that, to be a soldier or a sailor.”

“Father has always spoken of your Grandfather, as long as I can remember.  He said that your Grandfather was the finest fighter in the kingdom, hands down and that he owed him his life, many times over.”

“I’m beginning to think Grandfather glossed over some of his accomplishments, when he told me the stories,” Aleron commented, “but that would explain why I can never beat him.  The funny thing is, he put even more effort into teaching me to read.”

“You can read and write Sudean too?” she said.  “That’s unusual for a farm boy, isn’t it?”

“I guess so, but I had more time on my hands that the real farm boys and Grandfather made sure I was occupied.  Actually I can read Elvish, Dwarvish and Coptic too.”

She looked at him in utter disbelief.  “Did he want you to be a scribe or a soldier?”

“I’ve never been sure what he wanted.  He told me he wanted me to have choices in life and that I should be able to take care of myself, no matter what the situation.”

“I think you’re trying to play with me Aleron.  If you can read Elvish, what does that inscription there read?”  She pointed to an ancient bronze plaque bolted to the dais upon which sat the throne.

Aleron looked at the plaque and replied, “By the hand of the Allfather, may the kingdom be blessed with peace and prosperity for all the ages yet to come.”

“Well I’ll be a…never mind,” she said, with some consternation.  “Can you read that one?” she asked pointing to another bronze plaque that, like the first, had been mounted to commemorate the opening of the hall, over a thousand years ago.

Aleron looked at the Dwarvish runes and having to ponder a little longer, had Eilowyn thinking he was stumped.  Then he recited, “By the Allfather and Gurlach, may the steel of your swords be always sharp and limber and your armor hard like stone.  Strength in battle to all your generations, until the end of time.”  As she stared at him, slack jawed, he continued, “Kind of funny how the two blessings sort of contradict each other.  Together, they both call for success, but of very different kinds.”

“You’re not a normal country boy, are you?”

“I suppose not, though I’m pretty normal with my friends.  We fish and joke around, fight with the other boys and mostly have a good time.”

“Well it’s good to hear you have other interests than fighting and reading.  Do you want to come look at the sword?”

“Is it allowed?” Aleron asked nervously.

“Of course it is.  People touch it all the time.  It’s the most sacred relic of the kingdom and it’s indestructible, as far as anyone can see.” She assured him.  “It’s four thousand years old and it’s been stuck in the back of the throne for a thousand of them, but the hilt still looks bright as new.”  She took his hand again and led him up onto the dais and then to another raised platform, behind the throne.  “They built this here so people wouldn’t have to stand on the throne to touch the sword,” she explained.  “No one sits or stands on the throne, ever, but every New Years Day they let people line up to try to pull the sword out.  We’ve been doing it since King Alagric died without an heir, a thousand years ago.  Go ahead, try it.” As Aleron got closer to the hilt,  the jeweled pommel seemed to glow with an inner light.  “That’s odd,” Eilowyn noted.  “The light in here must be different.  Those jewels seem brighter than I’ve ever seen them.”

Aleron reached out and took hold of the hilt and the sapphires suddenly shone incandescent.  Hadaras shouted, “Aleron, no!” from across the hall, but it was too late.  The blue glowing blade of the ancient elvish weapon was already partway out of its granite scabbard, before Aleron slammed it back in, a look of shock and fear on his face.  “Boy, what have you done?” Hadaras asked in dismay, as he and the Steward rushed over.

“I don’t know, Grandfather!” Aleron cried.  “I didn’t mean any harm.  I just meant to touch it and then it jumped out at me!”

“Guards, clear the hall now!” Gealton bellowed at the top of his lungs.  “You two,” he shouted at the bodyguards, “get Ellie to the royal chambers.”

“Daddy, what’s going on?  I don’t want to leave!” she protested.

“Don’t argue right now, girl and do as you’re told!”

“Yes Father,” she acquiesced, turning and walking with her flanking guards to a doorway behind the throne.

Once the girl and her guards were gone and the hall was clear, the Steward directed the remaining guards to exit and close the doors behind them.  Then he said.  “Hadaras, old friend, it looks to me like you have some explaining to do.”  Hadaras nodded gravely.  “Now lad, why don’t you grasp that old sword again and pull it out all the way.”  Wordlessly complying, Aleron grasped the hilt again and once again, the sapphires shone with piercing blue light.  He stretched to his full height to draw the five-foot long blade from the stone and then stood there in shocked disbelief, holding the sword before him.  The blade shone with an inner radiance, that nearly matched that of the jeweled hilt, but softer.  The older men could see the visible manifestation of the swords magic infusing Aleron’s body as well.  His skin glowed faintly and the whites of his eyes were radiant blue.  “Now go ahead and put it back.”  Aleron did as he was told, sliding the blade back into the stone of the granite throne.  “Now you try it, Hadaras, if you would.”  Hadaras stepped up, as Aleron moved aside.  He grabbed the hilt with both hands and pulled, but nothing happened.  “Now it’s my turn,” Gealton asserted.  The others stepped aside, as the Steward attempted the same as Hadaras, with the same results.  “I do believe we need to retire somewhere private and discuss matters.”

“Agreed,” Hadaras replied.

“Can anyone tell me what is going on here?” Aleron pleaded.

“In good time, lad, all in good time,” his grandfather answered.  First, the Steward and I have some things to talk over.

“Follow me, please,” the Steward directed and they walked to the same door Eilowyn and the guards had used.  They emerged into a large reception room, richly furnished, but otherwise unused looking.  Ellie was seated on a small, ornate chair in one corner, looking worried, while the guards stood at the ready, to either side of the room.  “Aleron, please stay here with my daughter, while I speak to your grandfather privately.  Come, old friend, here’s a place we can speak in private.”  Gealton led Hadaras to a side door, leading into a private chamber.

As soon as they were gone, Eilowyn asked, “What happened out there, Aleron?  What were you three doing after he sent me out?”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Aleron answered, looking vexed.  “Your father had me pull the sword out again, then he had Grandfather try and then he tried himself.”

“Were you able to pull it out again?”

“Yes, but I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean.”

“Were they able to pull it out of the stone?”

“No.”

“You and I both know what that means, Aleron,” and then she asked, “What did the sword look like when you held it?”

“It glowed blue…but that’s impossible.  My father was a woodsman, not a prince or anything.”

“Let’s think about this, Aleron.  You don’t know your father’s ancestry that far back, do you?”  To his hesitant headshake, she replied, “Right and you know it’s not through your grandfather, or he would have been able to draw the sword too, but what about your mother, through your grandmother?  The reason they have that line up every New Year is in the hopes that the royal line survived somewhere.  You appear to be it.”

“But, I just want to be a soldier, not a king!” he cried, falling into the chair next to her.  Hans wore a sympathetic look as he glanced over to Simeon, who nodded in agreement.

***

Gealton closed the door behind them and they found themselves in what appeared to be a private office.  “The old office of the steward, from back when the throne room was used for official business.  We replace the furnishings every hundred years or so, as needed, just in case we need to start using it again.  It looks like that time may be upon us.  Have a seat, Hadaras,” he gestured to a chair, taking the one opposite.  “It occurs to me, considering your warning shout, that this is not entirely surprising to you.”

“No, it is not, Gealton.  He is the rightful heir and I have long known it.”

“How is that so?  It is not through you; we saw that much in the hall.”

“It is through his father.  He is a direct, male-line, descendent.  Do you remember Alagric had a younger brother?

“Yes, Adelard, the drunkard, he died in a ditch, choked on his own puke, a year or so before the king.”

“He died, yes, but not before siring a bastard son, with a local prostitute.”

“How do you know this, Hadaras?”

“I found the boy myself, living on the streets after his mother died.”

“You found him!” the Steward exclaimed, flabbergasted.  “How could that be?  It was a thousand years ago.”

“Friend, I have trusted my life to you in the past and I still trust you today, but I have not been altogether truthful with you over the years.”  As he said this, he let fall the glamour he normally maintained over his appearance.  His face smoothly morphed into one with the high cheekbones, arched brows and pointed ears of an elf.  “I have walked Aertu for over nine thousand years and have gone by many names.”

Gealton froze in his chair, rendered speechless.  When he finally spoke again, he stuttered, “B-but even elves don’t live that long.  Who and what, are you?”

“I will tell you this and you must bear in mind, that you are one of only a couple mortals to know my true name.  I am Goromir, the one of old and no other.  I forged Andhanimwhid and I was there when Aleron fell.  It was I who bound the Nameless One in the depths of Immin Bul.  I do not know why I have lived so long in this world, but I suspect that my purpose here is not fulfilled as long as the Adversary lives.” 

“Why do you hide among us as a man and is the boy truly your grandson?  I do not understand what is going on here.  Why did you not bring forth the heir a thousand years ago?”

“I was guided by prophesy and revelation, that the bastard child was not to be the King and that millennia would pass before the King returned to the throne.  I have watched over his line and yours, ever since Alagric’s death.  In answer to your first question, he is my daughter’s son.”

“So he’s a halfblood and heir to the throne, amazing that this would happen in my time,” Gealton said, a look of joy coming across his face.

“You do not worry for your base of power, my friend?” Hadaras inquired.

“Hadaras, or should I call you Goromir…?  The Steward has always run the kingdom, while the King commands the armies.  The generals and admirals need to worry more than I,” the Steward replied, “but what’s this about watching over my line as well?”

“My revelation told me that the line of Stewards must be preserved, for if either line failed, the kingdom would be doomed.  That is why I was with you in the jungle, to make certain you made it home alive.  It seems that you and yours have parts to play in this story.”

“Ellie…?” 

“That could very well be,” Hadaras replied.  “I have seen, over these nine millennia that very little happens by chance.  I’m sure that Eilowyn was meant to meet Aleron today and she was meant to bring him to Andhanimwhid.  Whether her part is over, or she has a greater part in the overall story, I cannot say.”

“Wait a bit; it occurs to me, that if you are who you say, then that boy is descended of the Kings of Elvenholm as well.”

“Yes, Aleron is a joining of both lines.  That was from my daughter, Audina.  She received a revelation to which I was not privy.  It told her that she would wed Valgier and together they would beget the one of whom the prophecies speak.  I was against it, for I saw only doom at the time.”

“How were his parents lost?”

“A Kolixtlani assassin killed them and kidnapped the boy.  I killed the assassin and took back my grandson.  Once I made him safe, I travelled to Immin Bul and renewed the bindings of the Adversary.”

“I am sorry for your loss.  Does the lad have any clue as to who he is?” Gealton asked.

“I’m certain he does now, as well as your daughter and the guards, but before now, no.  We were not yet ready for this turn of events.  I did not plan to seat a boy-king upon the throne of Sudea.”

“I see your point, old friend.  As joyful as this news is for Sudea, he is young and untested.  Furthermore, not having grown up at court, he likely knows nothing of politics, does he?”

“Not a bit, he would be vulnerable in his naiveté to those who would try to influence him.  That is not the only concern I have, Gealton.  There is another prophecy, separate from that of the King’s return and the boy may have a role in that as well.”

“What prophecy would that be?”

“There is an old prophecy among the elves, that upon the return to power of the Nameless One, a sorcerer of such power that the world has yet to see would stand between him and the free peoples of Aertu.  Recent events have indicated that Aleron may be that sorcerer.”