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Laster dropped him off in the middle of the market square next to the big fountain that had been erected in honor of the fallen soldiers who fought at Barnavor.
Prolur watched the wagon disappear into the thick throng of people that had amassed to buy and sell goods. He looked around carefully and put the hood over his head. He rounded the fountain and headed towards the castle that lay ahead of him.
It was bigger than he remembered it, with two towers rising to the sky and walls that stretched out to the sides as far as the eyes could tell. The walls had no windows or doors apart from the high-arched ones that reached to the top. Just like the front gates, the doors were guarded by one soldier on either side.
Prolur moved towards the gates quickly, hoping that the guards would let him pass. Instead, two spears crossed his path, a hand grabbed his shoulder, and he was face to face with an unshaved and surly-looking guard.
“‘Scuse me, Father,” the man said. “I can’t let you in. Only by special permission.”
Prolur stared into the guard’s blue eyes without so much as blinking. “I am Father Prolur, my son. I believe I am expected.” He laid his index finger on the man’s spear and pushed it aside.
“Well, I am sorry, Father. I had no idea.” The guard loosened the grip on his weapon and so did the other one. “Follow me, Father.”
The guard opened a smaller door within the larger door, and Prolur followed him inside.
They walked through a wide corridor with a high ceiling which led them to a courtyard. It was large and looked like it stretched as far as the walls themselves. It was full of activity, and Prolur was surrounded by people. There was a blacksmith, a stable, and an archery range within the castle walls, and they were all busy.
Prolur hadn’t realized that he was still, almost overwhelmed by the size of it all. He recognized it somewhat, but it had been either on fire or crushed the last time—the time he had led the charge on Barnavor Castle. The building was guarded heavier now. Everywhere he turned there stood two or three men in groups. His guide tugged at his sleeve and woke him from his daydream. The man had an impatient look on his face and waved at the monk to hurry up.
Prolur turned towards the castle itself, with its hundred windows and rough stone façade, and he let his eyes wander upward towards the roof. Once again, he froze, but this time from shock. His heart sank, and he broke out into a cold sweat. He couldn’t believe what his own eyes told him. For hanging from the edge of the roof, covering the wall above the entrance, was a large, dark-blue flag. A white triangular shield was embroidered in the center, and emblazoned upon it, a black hawk spread its wings. It was just like the coat of arms borne by the rider in his dream.
“Father?” the guard said in an annoyed voice.
Once again, Prolur was jerked back into reality. “Who does that coat of arms belong to?” he asked in an unsteady voice.
“That?” The guard pointed at the flag. “That is the arms of Lord di Sauria himself.”
Prolur shuddered. Was it all just a horrible coincidence or had he been warned in the dream? Warned to stay away from the black hawk. He couldn’t let himself believe that it was so. He followed the soldier through the front doors and up the staircase that filled the entire hallway. It split, going towards the right and the left only to meet again on the second floor. On the walls hung tapestries of famous Sauranian and Haugarian events. The floor was made from white marble, and it was so shiny that it reflected the gold leafing that covered the ceiling.
On the third floor, the guard headed to the right and pulled aside a heavy red velvet curtain hanging in a door frame, leading Prolur into what looked like a waiting area. It was a small square room with one window looking out over the courtyard and opposite it a door. A couple of paintings depicting aristocratic women hung on the walls, and in one corner, resting upon an ornate pedestal, was a bust of a beautiful woman.
The guard knocked on the door and waited. At first, there was no sign of activity, and the man was forced to knock again. Then there was the sound of footsteps coming closer, and the gilded doorknob turned. The door slightly opened, and Prolur heard a female voice whispering something.
“Your guest is here, my lady,” the guard said, and the door swung open.
There she was. Her face lit up, and her eyes alive with joy. She wore a blue dress with long, flowing sleeves that hid her hands, and her hair was pulled back in a braid.
“You may go now,” she said to the guard. “And do remember to keep this meeting from His Lordship. You will be greatly rewarded for your loyalty.”
The guard smiled for the first time and scurried off.
Taura looked around and pulled Prolur inside. As soon as she had shut the door behind them, she embraced him and kissed him passionately.
“I have been waiting for you,” she said after releasing him from her grip. “It has been too long.”
“I know,” he replied. “We were out of provisions, so it gave me the perfect excuse to leave.”
“Are you here alone?”
“No, Laster is here as well, but he gladly took on the task of gathering what we need. He is still purging himself because of his behavior during your visit.”
“Poor man. He is incredibly pious, is he not?”
“He is the complete opposite of Elden.”
“And you?” Taura pulled back his hood and let her hand caress his cheek. “Where on the scale are you?”
“Somewhere in the middle, I think.” He looked around the large room with its dark wood floors and paneling, and gold and white-colored curtains hung against the walls. It was furnished like a living room with a small table made from glass, couches, and a fireplace. “Is this your room?”
“To be truthful, the entire third floor of the west wing belongs to me and Naed. It used to belong to the ladies of the house. Hundreds of noblewomen have trodden these floors and entertained within these walls.”
“The only area we did not invade.” Prolur walked farther into the room. “That is why I do not recognize it.”
“True.” She followed him around. “The furniture is completely untouched by anyone since the castle came into our possession, unlike the rest of it.”
“I can see that.”
“May I offer you something to eat or drink?” she asked as she glided across the room towards a chestnut dresser.
“No, thank you. Do you entertain often?”
“Now and again—the duties of a lady. Mostly it is Lord di Sauria who comes calling when we are here, but it happens that other important men visit.”
“To discuss politics?”
“I wish they would. They do not believe I can handle political affairs. Most of the time they ask for my hand in marriage. Lord Armana was very wealthy and owned much land and many mines. They do so wish to expand their own wealth, and I do like to think that I still can attract a man.” She let a giggle escape her.
“You are as beautiful as the day we met.” Prolur walked over to her and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. She put her arms around him again, and they remained in each other's grasp for several minutes. Prolur let the warmth of her breath tickle his neck, and he devoured the wonderful scent of her hair.
After a moment, he lifted her head and looked deep into her eyes. “Is it possible to see my son?” he asked, and she nodded with a smile.
“He is in the playroom at the moment. It is near impossible to get him out of there once he is inside.” She took his hand and led him through a blue door.
They entered a larger room with yellow walls and a border along the ceiling decorated with white and purple flowers. The room was empty apart from a carved oak table in the middle and several fancy dresses lining the walls. Some of them Prolur recognized from the paintings. There was another door on the opposite side of the room which they walked up to.
Taura opened the door and revealed a smaller room behind it painted in bright colors and with large windows. The floor was littered with toys, and there, amongst the wooden horses and toy soldiers, sat the fair-haired Naed.
He was dressed in a yellow tunic with blue pants. He was caught up in playing with something with his back turned to them.
“Naed!” Taura called out. “There is someone here to see you.”
The boy turned to look at his mother and her guest. Prolur crouched down so that their eyes were level. Naed stared at him with an intensity that took him off guard. He returned the stare which didn’t seem to bother the child. A sense of profound sadness filled his heart. He came to think of everything he had missed in his son’s life, and it had all been because of his own selfishness.
Naed smiled at him, and the brightness and pure sunshine in the boy’s appearance caused Prolur’s eyes to water. A single tear ran from his left eye as Naed rose from the floor and with careful steps walked closer to him. He stopped right in front of his estranged father so that their noses were less than an inch apart. He raised his hand and wiped the tear from Prolur’s face.
“We are the same,” Naed said in a quiet voice that didn’t seem to reflect his age at all.
Prolur took the boy’s hand that was still resting on his face and smiled. “Indeed, we are, Naed,” he replied.
Taura rested her hand on Prolur’s shoulder, and for a moment, the three of them froze in that very position.
A knock on the door broke the spell, and Taura vanished nervously to see who might be there. Naed tugged at Prolur’s hand and wanted him to come farther into the room. He bent down and picked up a pewter figurine of a Haugarian soldier and handed it to him.
Prolur took it and examined it closely. The figure was wearing a uniform made from cloth, carried a rectangular shield, and wore a sword at its side. It was painted in the proper colors, but somebody had added to it. A beard was painted on its chin which made it very much resemble Prolur. He looked down at Naed, who, in turn, was looking up at him.
“It is you,” the child said enthusiastically. Prolur flashed a nervous smile and turned it over in his hands.
“Prolur!” Taura’s voice broke his concentration. He turned around, and she was standing in the doorway. “Could you join me in the living room?”
Prolur nodded, gave his son the pewter figurine, and patted him on the head. “Take care of yourself, my boy.”
Naed looked at him with sad eyes and held the end of his robe. “Will I see you again?” he asked.
“Of course, you will.” Prolur caressed Naed’s head and then left the room.
Taura was silent as she walked in front of him with her hands stuck in her sleeves. She walked into the living room and stopped by the fireplace. As Prolur crossed the threshold, he noticed two figures dressed in black robes sitting in one of the larger couches. The very same figures he had seen when entering the city. He looked straight at the figures, who rose from their seating when they noticed him, and then at Taura, who remained completely calm now. He walked into the room but kept himself at a safe distance by the windows.
“Prolur,” Taura began. “There is someone I would like you to meet. It is one of the reasons I asked you to come.”
The two figures pulled back their hoods. The shorter one revealed a thin, pale face bordering on white, framed by shoulder-length, straight black hair. His eyes were so dark that it was impossible to distinguish his pupils from the iris. His age was undeterminable, and although his face had hard features, there was something very comforting and kind about it. He was young—in his early twenties, Prolur would have guessed.
The other figure was a head taller than the first one and also revealed a male face. It was rounder with brown hair that was parted and hung down the sides covering the man’s ears. Three days’ worth of stubble covered his chin, and his eyes were big and blue and bore a friendly sparkle. This man seemed to be the same age as his traveling companion if not even a bit younger. Prolur recognized the kind, round face and the smile that stretched from ear to ear. Not this version of it, but the one that the man’s father had worn.
“Prince Quale?” Prolur was stunned.
“Yes, Father Prolur,” the prince said and continued to smile.
They walked towards each other, and Prolur took the prince’s hand and bowed his head in reverence. “It is an honor to meet you, sire,” he said, with his head still bowed.
“No, sir,” the prince replied. “The honor is entirely on my side.” He pointed to the man next to him. “I would like to introduce you to my confidant and second, Aevel Taval.”
The shorter man took Prolur’s hand and nodded his head.
“Aevel Taval? Son of Sir Jeven of Taval? Your father served with me during several battles.”
“He often spoke of you, Father.” Aevel’s voice was soft, deep, and calm.
“He has passed on?”
“He was killed in the skirmish which followed the assassination of King Daiunn III. As a punishment for his loyalty, our name was taken from us—as was our estates and lands.”
“I am very sorry for your loss. Your father was a good man.”
Taura came between them and offered them to take their seats.
“How are you fairing, Your Highness?” Prolur began. “Are you not taking a great risk coming here?”
“We try to take it day by day.” Prince Quale leaned against the side of the couch and rested his head in his hand. “We utilize old secret passageways in the castle. We do try to remain safe and seldom enter the dragon’s lair.”
“I heard rumors that you were here in Saurania. Is it not very dangerous? Every single Haugarian soldier and bounty hunter is looking to cut off your head.”
“We move around a great deal—both within the limits of the land and across the border to Chandra or even Drycorian. We also have many allies, like for instance Lady Armana, who take us in and protect us.”
They fell silent for a moment and stared at one another until Quale folded his hands in his lap and spoke again. “Our visit here is, of course, not purely courteous. As I told you, there are those who have chosen to rally behind us, here and on the island. They range from poor farmers to rich landowners. There are many who wish to see the current king dethroned and his reign of madness ended. He has executed so many old friends of my father and anyone who has dared to oppose him. We are building armies all across the kingdom, and we will soon be strong enough to begin our war for freedom. Father, we desperately need your assistance to prepare our soldiers.” Quale paused and waited for Prolur’s answer with expectant eyes.
“You are in need of my help?” Prolur was surprised by the request.
“You are a legendary soldier and would, therefore, instill inspiration in the men. Your abilities and knowledge of the terrain here in Saurania, where we plan to engage our attacks, would clearly work in our favor.”
Prolur was quiet. He looked at both Prince Quale and Aevel Taval, who was nervously tugging at his sleeve. Taura, who sat next to him, took hold of his hand and squeezed it.
“Your highness,” Prolur said. “I am very honored that you would take such a risk in coming here to see me and that you need my knowledge to help the war against your uncle.” He paused and hesitated for a moment. “Yet I cannot aid you. I am not a soldier anymore, and to be honest, it is something I would rather leave behind. I am too tired to go into battle again.”
Quale leaned forward and ran his hand through his hair. “I do not wish to push you, Prolur,” he said, “but the future of this kingdom rests on the shoulders of very few men, and you are one of them. Please aid us, for me and my father’s memory. The title must be returned to the true. This kingdom is founded on the true divine lineage—without it, everything would crumble.”
“I do not pledge allegiance to your family anymore, and I have not done so for many years. I am truly sorry, Your Highness, but I cannot give you my help.” Quale and Aevel rose from the couch, and Prolur followed suit. “I do sincerely hope that I have not offended you.”
Prince Quale forced a smile at him and held out his right hand. “I assure you, Father Prolur, that I do not harbor any ill will towards you. I do understand that you might not wish to engage in our cause, but trust that we are here if you would want to contact us at a later date.” They shook hands, Prolur bowed, and then Aevel Taval took his hand. Both young men pulled their hoods over their heads and bowed towards Taura who returned it. “We must make haste; we cannot risk detection within the castle. Do remember, Father, that when it begins, there will be no mercy for those found doing my uncle’s bidding.”
They headed to the door, and Taura let them out. Before he exited, Prince Quale turned around and looked at Prolur. “I know we will see each other again during these troubled times. And in the near future, we might meet as general and king instead of monk and exiled prince.”
“Maybe so, Your Highness,” Prolur replied, and Quale walked through the door.
Taura closed it behind him and walked back to Prolur. “Do you resent me?” he asked, anticipating the worst.
“I do not, my love.” She put her head on his shoulder. “I know how you feel. I just cannot sit idly by while old friends and relations are being dragged to the executioner. The crown does belong to the prince, and I feel I owe it to his father.”
“That is true, yet it remains in the family, and it is nothing that has not happened in the past. For hundreds of years, kings have rid themselves of supposed enemies. The divine lineage itself was broken long ago. You know as well as I do that the kings of Haugar have been ruling by their own grace. A god may have placed them there by his actions, but not because of the blood in their veins.”
“I do know this, Prolur, but no matter what sins have been committed in the past, I have an opportunity to hinder it from happening again. In my heart, I know that Prince Quale is a good man. Young but good.”
“Do what you will, Taura,” Prolur said as he kissed her. “Promise me that you will be cautious. I could not bear the loss of you and Naed.”
“Trust me. Who would believe a single woman under the protection of Lord di Sauria himself could conspire against the king?”
Prolur looked at the sun outside the window and realized he had been there for some time. “I must take my leave. Father Laster is most likely done with the errands.”
“We need not keep a pious man waiting,” Taura said with a laugh.
Prolur joined in as he moved towards the door. Taura opened it, and they embraced.
“The only thing I am saying is to be wary,” Prolur said, squeezing her tight. “I know Crauco—he is cunning and underhanded. You can sure that he has got spies within most noble houses, especially with his nephew at large.”
“I swear I will. Now you must go.” Taura released him, and they kissed one last time. “I will see you soon.”
“I know.” Prolur pulled his hood over his head and walked through the hall, passing the curtain that hid the entrance.
When he stood at the top of the stairs, he suddenly heard the distinct sound of boots against stone. He leaned over the railing and saw none other than his cousin, di Sauria, heading up the stairs, followed by two soldiers carrying spears and short swords. They had reached the landing that offered the choice of two staircases leading upward. They chose the one Prolur was at the top of. In a few seconds, they would notice him. Prolur picked up his robe, and as softly as he could, he ran towards the other staircase and crouched down behind the railing, hiding behind the odd pedestal that might be on his way. As Lord di Sauria reached the top of the stairs, at the precise spot where Prolur had stood, he snuck down the other side, undetected.
Taura jumped out of her couch when a sudden knock on her door came for the third time that day. Prolur had been a delightful surprise, even though she had been waiting for him ever since they had seen each other again. Quale and Aevel’s visit had been unexpected, but she knew that the prince had been eager to speak with Prolur, and they had told her that they had followed him since his arrival in Barnavor.
She opened the door, and there stood Lord di Sauria with two soldiers. He wore a bright smile and his official blue tunic without armor.
“Lady Armana,” he said with a voice smothered in honey, and he bowed deeply before her. “May I enter?”
Taura nodded and stepped aside. di Sauria signed to the soldiers to remain outside, and he came inside. He walked over to the fireplace and remained standing. Taura closed the door and sat back down on her couch, facing her guest.
“What brings you here, Lord di Sauria?” she inquired with her hands folded in her lap.
“Please, Lady, call me Mieden.”
“I do not think so, sire.”
“As you wish. I have come only to give you some company. I understand that you may be lonely here, far from your castle and servants.”
“It is not so bad, sire. It is actually a blessing to be away from the constant attention of others.”
di Sauria put his hands behind his back and began to pace the room. “Lady Armana.” He hesitated a minute and then began pacing again. “I have given this a lot of thought. I understand that it must be difficult for you to be a widow alone in a castle that can scarcely be rivaled in size. Especially in these troubled times with treacherous Sauranians and barbarian tribes. This and Naed needs a father. A man to take him under his wing and teach him the ways of nobility. This is why I have allowed you to stay here and offered my protection.”
He stopped in front of Taura and swallowed nervously. “I have decided that it would be wisest if you became my wife.”
“Excuse me, Your Lordship?” Taura bit her lower lip so that she wouldn’t burst out laughing at the man in front of her, who was perspiring profusely.
“I am asking you to become Lady di Sauria. It is in the best interest of us both. I need a wife and a child of my own to carry on the family name, and as I said before, you need a husband and Naed a father. The both of you need a stable future, which I can provide.”
Taura was silent and covered her mouth with her hand in horror. She saw the seriousness in the man’s eyes. There was something else there within the depths of his pupils. She shuddered. It was love.
“Your Lordship,” she said in a calm voice. “May I speak frankly?”
“You may.”
“I cannot accept your offer, sire. Firstly, neither I nor Naed feel that we are in need of a man in our lives. We can take care of ourselves. Secondly, I do not rush into marriage as I thought you would have understood at this point. Partly because I have to have genuine feelings for someone—an odd concept in our circles I know.”
“Do you not see that this is beneficial for the both of us?” di Sauria sounded hurt and angry.
“It is not about what is beneficial to anyone. It is about feelings. I need not marry for wealth or title. I am truly sorry.”
di Sauria’s head hung limply as he scratched it.
“I think it would be best if you took your leave now, sire,” she said as soothingly as possible, and di Sauria grunted something in reply. With her arm around the man’s shoulder, Taura led him to the door. He straightened himself out and raised his head and tried to regain his former dignity.
“I will ask you to reconsider, milady,” he said with his hand on the doorknob. “Please.”
“You must forgive me, sire, but I cannot.”
di Sauria left the room and slammed the door behind himself. He spun around and sent his fist into the wall, inches from the door. Biting his lip, he suppressed the rage building up inside. He closed his eyes and rubbed his hand, which was aching from its bout with the wall. He turned around and saw the two soldiers staring at him with a look of shock across their faces.
“What are you staring at?” he screamed at them. The men stood rigid and shook their heads while their eyes rested on his boots. “Do not just stand there. Move on!” The soldiers came alive and immediately moved out.
Prolur caught Laster sitting on the wagon in deep reflection. He was finished with the errands and was not at all curious about Prolur’s whereabouts the last couple of hours. If he was, he didn’t voice any such interest as Prolur climbed up into the wagon next to him. They drove home in silence.