Legacy of light, p.3
Legacy of Light, page 3
“What will the people think of us when they see dancing and gorging? It isn’t right.”
“The people,” the King started, narrowing his eyes at his son. “Will see their prince taking his rightful position as Toha. We must give them pride in their kingdom, in their royal family.”
“But -”
“Trystan,” the King snapped. “Enough. It’s too late to cancel it.” He looked to Lord Drake who gave him a tiny nod and sighed. “We must keep up appearances. Everything must seem okay here at the palace.”
“Who cares about appearances?”
The King slammed his fist down on the table, making Trystan jump. “The King of Dreach-Dhoun cares.” He unclenched his fist and massaged it with his other hand. “We have reason to believe the King across the border has managed to put spies within these walls.”
“What reasons?” The Duke of Isenore asked accusingly. “Why was I not told of this?”
“Our troop movements near the border have been compromised as if King Calis himself got a look at our maps. There have been small attacks. He’s testing us. More than a few shipments have gone awry.”
“None of this is anything new.” Lord Coille scratched his thick beard. “Calis has been one step ahead of us for more than a decade, it seems.”
“He grows bolder as we grow weak,” Lady Destan said quietly.
“Speak for yourself, woman,” Lord Eisner snarled.
She didn’t rise to his bait. Her voice was calm, logical. “Of course, we’re growing weaker. Every year we cut food rations. What happens when there are no more rations to cut? We can’t let our people starve. Our world is falling apart. It snows when there should be heat. It’s dry when it should rain. And it’s not only the weather. Rivers have dried up while others have been created right where houses stand. I was only twelve when we lost our connection to the earth – our magic – but I remember what life was like with that bond. The earth took care of us, now it’s dying and threatening to take us with it.”
“Tomorrow marks the twenty-year anniversary of that dark day,” Lord Coille said, forgetting talk of spies for just a moment.
Trystan leaned forward, wanting to hear more. He knew the day of his birth had been tumultuous for his people. He still found it hard to believe in magic. Everyone who was old enough to remember told stories of the time when anything was possible, but stories were all it was to him, imaginary.
“I remember it like it was yesterday,” Lord Coille continued.
“We don’t need to discuss this,” Lord Eisner snapped.
“Of course, we do,” he replied. “We must remember always.” He looked to Trystan. “Now, son, there’s something you need to understand, something young people need to be told, lest it be lost. It’s spelled out in the Realm’s name. Dreach is an ancient word for magic. It was the magic keeping the balance in the world. It came from the earth, but it was only there because of the Tri-Gard.”
“I know all of this,” Trystan said. “My tutors instructed me well. The three members of the Tri-Gard used their crystals to infuse the land with power.”
Lord Coille nodded. “The three were a force for good until they were coerced into stripping the land of its power. Without being able to draw from the trees, the rocks, the very ground we walked on, our abilities disappeared. We were superior to Dreach-Dhoun in every way. We would have won the war. But, to this day, parts of their lands still hold immense power while ours are barren.”
“This is a council meeting, not a history lesson,” Lord Eisner interjected.
“Oh, do shut up.” Lady Destan winked at Trystan before turning a scowl on Lord Eisner. “The difference between the two realms is in our intentions for the magic. Dreach-Sciene translates into light magic, but Dreach-Dhoun only means dark magic.”
“I don’t understand what this has to do with anything we’re discussing,” Trystan said, honestly curious.
“Oh, my boy, it has everything to do with it.” Lord Coille leaned back in his chair and glanced at the king who gave him a nod to go on. “Our light magic kept our world in working order. It put clear distinctions between the seasons, allowing crops to thrive. It imbued nourishment into the soil. We’ve survived without it for twenty years, but each year has been worse than the one before it. We’re at the end of our luck, I’m afraid.”
“Has anyone been sent into Dreach-Dhoun to try to recover what was stolen?” Trystan looked to his father.
“If it were only so simple.” The King sighed. “In order for power to be restored, the three guardians must be reunited. We know where one of them is.” The King glanced towards his friend, Lord Coille. “He’s in the dungeons of Dreach-Dhoun. The other two are in hiding and we have no way of finding them.”
Trystan still wasn’t sure if he believed, but looking around the table, he saw that they did and it was enough for him. A swell of duty inflated his chest as he thought of his people and his need to save them. “Send me, Father. I will find them.”
“No.” The response was quick and finite. “Absolutely not.”
“I can do it,” Trystan stated.
“We don’t doubt you, Your Highness,” Lord Coille said after a moment of stubborn silence from the king. “But we’re not even sure it can be done. Dreach-Dhoun is not the place for a prince.”
“There’s no negotiating, Trystan.” The King’s tone was not to be trifled with. “I have other plans for you. We’re sending a contingent of our best soldiers to survey border defenses. Dreach-Dhoun is preparing for something. We need to root out their spies. You will remain here where you can prepare the troops who are about to be under your command. We must be ready.”
It wasn’t what Trystan wanted to hear, but he was a prince and he must follow the orders of the king. He lowered his gaze to the table, the weight of the title of Toha ever growing. “Yes, Sire.”
When he looked back up, he met the Duchess of Sona’s sympathetic gaze before looking beside her to where Lord Drake, his uncle, sat smirking. He sunk lower into his chair and listened attentively to the rest of the meeting, feeling deflated and angry.
“Nothing said here today is to get out.” The King surveyed his council. “Not until we find the traitors. Understood?”
The dukes nodded as they trickled out, leaving Trystan with only his father and his uncle.
“Why was I not told before of the extent of the problems our people are facing? I still think it’s wrong to feast when the people are set to starve.” Trystan clenched his fists down by his sides and tried to keep his tone even. The King may have been his father, but he was still the king.
It was his uncle who answered. “Dreach-Dhoun must not see us in such dire straits, Your Highness.”
Trystan blew out a long breath. “And what about what our people see?”
“Son.” The King tried to put a reassuring arm around him, but he moved out of reach. “The matter is done.”
“Unbelievable.” Trystan yanked the door open and marched out into the hall, almost colliding with Davion.
Davion stumbled back as if hit and then dropped into a low bow. “I’m sorry, my prince. Next time you’re charging around the castle like a headless horse, I’ll be sure to stay out of your way.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he raised his head.
“Idiot.” Trystan crossed his arms over his chest and glanced behind him to make sure his father or uncle hadn’t followed him out.
“Why are you in such a foul humor?” Davi asked. “I thought it was your lifelong dream to sit in with the dull and duller.”
“I should have you whipped for insolence.”
“Could work, if your father allowed whipping.”
“We could always start.” Trystan shrugged.
“You wound me, your Highness.” He held his hands over his heart and threw his head back.
“Can you be serious for a moment?”
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” he sighed. “Just a prince following his orders.”
“Well, soon you’ll be a Toha following his orders.” Davi smirked.
“Don’t remind me.” Trystan ran a hand over the top of his head. “I need a drink.”
A slow smile spread across Davi’s lips. “You’re a mind reader. I’ll bet you some of the guests are in the main hall. I was trying to find Alixa earlier.”
“Who?” Trystan asked.
“She’s the Duke of Isenore’s daughter. We have yet to meet. The rumor is she’s a true beauty, but a wild thing.”
“Sounds like your kind of woman.”
Davi shrugged. “Female is my kind of woman.”
“I’ll be sure to pass that on to my sister.” Trystan laughed, letting it release some of the tension he’d been carrying.
Davi sighed. “Rissa only likes the familiar. She’s young, she doesn’t know any better.”
“She’s only two years younger than us.”
“Ri is special, Trystan. You know it as well as I. But she’s a princess. I’d never let myself go down such a route.”
They entered the hall where many of their guests were playing dice, drinking, and listening to the fiddler.
“That’s a good thing.” Trystan nudged him. “Because it looks like she’s hitting it off with one of the young noblemen who arrived today.”
Davi followed Trystan’s gaze and when he stiffened beside him, Trystan patted him on the back before going to grab a drink.
Chapter 2
Rissa was sitting in the castle gardens, her favorite place to be, even if they were no longer lush and green. The loss of magic affected the castle grounds as well, and that which once thrived now lay brown and dull. Even so, the gardens had a calming effect on her; a soothing balm to her raw nerves. She seemed to suffer from nerves more and more these days after being around Davion. Deep in thought, a wrapped parcel clutched tight to her chest, she didn’t hear footsteps approach until a quiet cough interrupted her. Turning around, she found her good friend, Willow, whose father was the Duke of Aldorwood.
“Hi Willow,” Rissa said cheerfully. “What brings you out here so early?”
“I wanted to find you actually.” She shifted from one foot to the next and it was only then that Rissa noticed she was carrying something.
“Well.” Rissa laughed. “Why are you all jittery? It’s not like you, unless … oh, this has to do with my brother, doesn’t it?”
The other girl’s cheeks reddened and she looked down, her blonde curls falling in her face. Willow was the most beautiful girl she knew. Her perfect skin was pale and unmarked by the sun. Her soft hair was long and smooth. Gowns tended to hug her slender waist to perfection. And yet, Trystan never seemed to notice.
Their father and Willow’s had been hoping for a wedding, officially combining the two families. Willow had the poise and intelligence to sit beside Trystan on the throne. Still, something had always been missing and it was obvious to everyone besides Willow.
“I have a present for him,” she said shyly.
Rissa’s grin widened. “Let’s see it, then.”
She held it out and Rissa uncovered a beautiful portrait of Trystan sitting atop his horse, his armor gleaming in the sun. He raised a sword above his head.
“Did you paint this?” Rissa asked.
Willow nodded.
“You’ve gotten so good.” She looked up and met her friend’s eyes. “He’s going to love it.”
“You think so?”
“Of course. Honestly, you could’ve left him out of it and just painted the sword.” She laughed. “He loves that thing.”
Willow laughed finally, relief rolling off her in waves. “You’ll take it to him?”
“You don’t want to come to his rooms with me? I’m going now.”
“Of course not.” Willow’s eyes widened in shock, completely scandalized. She’d been raised by one of the most conservative women in the realm. Rissa was raised by men. That was the difference between them.
Rissa stood and brushed off her skirt before giving her friend a wink and heading towards her brother’s room.
She knocked as she always had. Two raps. Pause. Three raps. He didn’t answer so she pushed her way through and found him sitting on the end of his bed with his head in his hands.
He groaned and she laughed, crossing the room to throw open the curtains.
“Ri –“
“Stop your moaning,” she said. “It’s not my fault you drank enough to fill the sea last night and today’s a big day.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“Where’s Davi?” she asked. “Passed out in some random girl’s bed, I assume.”
“Jealousy isn’t flattering, sis.”
“I’m glad you’re always telling me where my heart lies,” she snapped. “After all, I’m just a poor woman who can’t decide anything for herself.”
Trystan started to laugh and couldn’t seem to stop himself. He leaned back on his bed, trying to catch his breath, and shut his eyes.
Rissa grinned at him. “Happy birthday, big brother.”
Opening one eye, he looked at her. “You know, I think you’re the only person who thinks of today as my birthday and not just the day I become Toha.”
“Not the only one.” She sat across from him and handed him the painting when he sat up fully.
“Willow?”
“Yup.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“You better remember to tell her.”
“I will. Now, what’d you get me?” he asked.
“Greedy, greedy.” She tossed the parcel at him, laughing when it hit him in the chest.
He unwrapped it. “A book of stories?” he asked.
“I figured everything from here on out is going to be about your duty to the people.” She met his eyes. “I wanted to remind you to forget about it sometimes. Disappear into something else and do something for you. Do you remember, you used to love storybooks? You were obsessed with Trystan the Bold.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly, looking down at the book and then back at her with unspoken emotions crossing his face.
“What’s wrong, brother? And don’t tell me it’s nothing because you look like I’ve just thrown your favorite sword down the well or something.”
He chuckled and leaned forward to bury his face in his hands again. “Just thinking.”
“A dangerous endeavor.”
He tilted his head to glare at her and she sighed.
“Trystan.”
He opened his mouth to speak but seemed to rethink his words. “I can’t tell you.”
“And why not?”
“Council stuff.”
She huffed at that.
“Just … it’s bad, Ri. There are things happening that none of us can control.” He groaned. “What if I’m not enough?”
“Of course, you are.”
“I’m about to become the commander of the army and I’ve never been in battle. How am I supposed to help if we are to go to war?”
War? She didn’t know what he was talking about, but she did know her brother. She touched his shoulder lightly. “You’ve been preparing for this your entire life. Just because your sword has never drawn blood, doesn’t mean you aren’t the right person to lead us.”
He sighed. “After today, I wonder if the Toha is all I’ll be. How will it change me?”
Rissa scooted forward and wrapped her arms around her brother’s solid shoulders, squeezing as hard as she could.
“It is the title which must bend to its bearer,” she said, leaning back. “Not the other way around.”
Despite the traditions and expectations of being a royal, Trystan was never one to allow servants to help him dress. He figured if he couldn’t dress himself, then he wasn’t fit to lead his men to war. Because that’s what would be asked of him eventually. It was always there, right on the border, the threat. Eventually, they’d be forced to fight just to survive because the land was no longer providing for them.
His elders said it was the lack of magic creating difficulties for their people. Fairy tales. That’s what it sounded like to him.
He didn’t know magic. He knew the tip of a sword, the taut string of a bow. He knew a starving people and a garden that struggled to bloom.
He pulled the silk shirt over his head. It was blue with gold embroidery. The sleeves puffed out when they reached passed his elbows. Together with the tight-fitting trousers and green jacket, he looked like a popinjay. He glanced at himself in the looking glass as he tied the belt at his waist and shook his head.
He’d rather wear his armor.
But he was a prince, not merely a soldier. He was soon to be Toha, guardian of the realm. Every firstborn son or daughter of the royal family held that title until the day they became king or queen. A day he hoped was a long way off.
The Toha led the realm’s fighting men and traveled far and wide to keep an eye on the defenses.
He sat on the edge of his bed and pulled on his black leather boots. It was almost time. A servant entered the room and attempted to bend down to tie the Prince’s laces, but Trystan waved him away. “Go,” he ordered.
The servant issued a quick bow and practically ran from the Prince’s harsh tone.
With a sigh, Trystan finished tying his laces and stood. He attached his sword to his waist and breathed deeply before stepping from his quarters. Three guards had been waiting outside his door and they formed up behind him without a word.
The halls were quiet as even the servants were in the hall for the ceremony. Rissa came running towards him, her dress twisting about her legs. Its green matched his jacket and set off her deep red hair like a blaze of fire as it danced around her shoulders.
She was out of breath when she caught up to him.
“Ri.” He’d have laughed at her panting had he not been so nervous.
“I wanted to catch you before you reached the hall.” She fell in step beside him and straightened her dress.
Trystan shook his head. His sister was the only woman he knew who would run through the palace in a gown and heels. She was crazy and he was thankful to have her at his side.
