“Ah!” exclaimed Eremit. “A mission!”
“Exactly,” said his mother.
“Well, I am prepared to execute any mission that you, my esteemed father, and you, my adored mother, believe me capable of carrying out.”
“So much the better,” said his father.
“This is it, then,” said his mother. “You must ride to Dorindom, the capital of Westward.”
“Well, and—?”
“And there you must ask for an audience with His Benevolence, Dorin, the Right Honorable Count of Westward.”
“Very well, mother. And then—?”
“Then you must present this—you see? It is the pendant that contains our Seal of Demesne, which proves you have come to him on official business.”
“You see, I have taken the pendant, my lady. And then?”
“Then you must beg to speak to the High Justicer of Westward.”
“But, my lady mother, is not Count Dorin himself the High Justicer?”
“He is, but as you should recall from your studies, the request for formal action in his role of justicer, rather than lord, must be explicit.”
“Ah,” said the young man, now beginning to understand the seriousness of the matter. “So it is official, then!”
“Precisely,” said his father. “Do you understand?”
“I do,” he said. “Only—”
“Well?”
“Can you not, mother, speak to his mind directly, and thus save both time and effort, as well as removing the need for an intermediary? For I know that you have studied sorcery for this very purpose, and that, moreover, you are well enough acquainted with him for this to work. The proof is, I remember you doing it.”
At this question, his mother and father looked at each other, each countenance showing signs of worry. “That is it,” said his father after a moment. “We are unable to.”
“How, unable to?”
“We have been trying to touch his mind, and we cannot.”
“But, how is that possible?”
“It may be,” said his father, “that a spell has been cast to prevent such contact. Such things are possible, although finding a sorcerer able to perform such a feat is no easy matter.”
“But then—”
“Yes?”
Eremit bit back the question he had been about to ask, for the answer occurred to him: this, in itself, was, if not proof of a conspiracy, then at least circumstantial evidence for it. “Very well then,” he said. “I understand.”
“It is good that you do,” said his father.
“And, the instructions? I am to speak to His Lordship the Count and ask for the High Justicer.”
“Exactly.”
“And then?”
“And then,” said his mother, “when you are speaking to the High Justicer—that is, to the Count as High Justicer—then you must explain to him what we have said about the conspiracy and beg him to investigate that matter.”
“I understand.”
“But there is more.”
“Very well, I am listening.”
“You must also beg him for assistance, in case it is true. You perceive, for men-at-arms, we have only Liban, the constable, and Aworu, the night watchman. Brave as they are, they are not sufficient to defend the estate from any sort of attack, and so we must ask for the aid of the Justicer’s dragoons.”
“My lady mama,” said Eremit. “I understand this, but—”
“Yes? But?”
“Will I be able to convince him of the need? Will he not say it is nothing but rumor and suspicion? Even if I explain that something is preventing communication from your mind to his?”
“Ah!” said his father, putting his hand on one of the books he had been reading with a smile Eremit knew well.
“You have found case law?” he cried.
“Better than that,” said his father. “I have found a statute! Attend me: ‘Every body of troops shall be made available on request to subordinates upon testimony of cause except insofar as there is immediate and urgent need of this same body of troops elsewhere, in which case the matter will be adjudicated as per section four, above.’”
“Ah! Well, that is a point I can certainly make!”
“Here, I have written down the citation, as well as references to several cases in which this matter was addressed by justicers. You see, I wrap them, tie them with this ribbon, and place them in this pouch, which I hand to you.”
Eremit took the pouch, added to it the pendant he’d been given, and said, “Very good, Father. I feel I am ready for this mission.”
“So much the better!”
“I have given instructions,” said Sudora, “for your horse, Stony, to be saddled, and for supplies for a ride of a day to be packed into her saddlebags. This should be done by now.”
“Now? Then, you wish me to leave at once?”
“Yes, this very instant. You are young, my son, and can withstand an all-night ride, which neither your father nor I are able to do. Should you arrive before to-morrow’s noon, well, we hope that will be in sufficient time.”
“And,” added Nessit, “In order to accomplish this, I am now giving you, to add to the pouch, a note to the post stable at Hargon’s Point, and another addressed to the one at Axelsbroke, so that you need not spare your horse.”
“Apropos,” said his mother. “Here, take this handful of money and add it to your purse. While you are unlikely to require it, still, there are events that can occur which are best handled by the use of a few coins.”
Eremit took the money and added it to his purse.
His father said, “Now that you have what you need, you must be on your way, for you perceive this is not a matter in which delay is our friend.”
“I understand,” said Eremit. “Then I shall leave in an instant, stopping only to embrace you both.”
“Ah!” said his father. “Yes, there is time for that!”
And, after having embraced them both affectionately, he at once left the study and made for the door by which he had arrived an hour before, only to be stopped by Waymin, who said, “Your pardon, young sir.”
“Well? I hope what you wish is of some importance, for I give you my word, my errand will not wait.”
“I am not unaware of this, young sir. But as for my wish, well, it is not my wish, but rather that of your father.”
“Ah! Then I am all the more ready to listen. What is it my father wished?”
“To give you these, in place of those you wear.”
As he spoke, Waymin handed over a belt, from which hung a sword and a knife. We would not be faithful to the truth if we did not observe that Eremit hesitated before accepting them. He could see, even though sheathed, that these were no marks of rank, but rather, useful, practical weapons, of the sort that might be used by an individual concerned with keeping his body whole and complete, while simultaneously hoping to disrupt the integrity of another’s. It was this, even more than the mission, that made Eremit realize the full gravity of the circumstances under which he was to act. Now we should be clear that it was not fear that caused his hesitation—he had no trace of that. But rather the realization that along with the pouch and the sword belt came a responsibility such as he had never before faced, and he required time—only a moment, it is true—to remind himself of this, and to warn himself sternly that he must not for an instant take matters lightly. From this moment, everything he did carried a weight, and he must be prepared for it.
Eremit then nodded his agreement, and, as proof that he accepted both the gift and the responsibility with which it came, removed his old sword belt and handed it to the lackey, whereupon Waymin knelt and strapped on the other.
“Does it fit, young sir? Another hole can be quickly punched into the belt.”
“No, Waymin. It fits as if it were made for me.”
“So much the better, young sir. Then it remains for me only to wish you a safe and prosperous journey.”
“May your wishes reach the ears of the gods,” Eremit said. “And, if you would be so kind, see to it that a note is delivered to my Livosha explaining that I was called away on an urgent errand and so, alas, I cannot meet with her as I had intended to.”
“It will see to it that a messenger is sent to-morrow.”
“Thank you, Waymin. And with that, I must be away. Guard well my mother and father.”
“Young sir, there is nothing to which I will dedicate myself more.”
“Then I bid you good evening.”
“And you, young sir.”
Eremit stepped out into the night, which was cold enough to force him to wrap his cloak more tightly about him. He wished for a heavier one as he considered the leagues he would have to travel and the speed at which he would be riding, but begrudged the time it would take to fetch one. He proceeded at once to the stables where, as promised, Stony was waiting, dancing as if she were aware of the importance of the mission for which she had been chosen to play such an important part.
The groom, a young woman named Jerin, assisted him to mount, and, like the others, wished him a fast and safe journey and then shut the gate behind him as he set off at a good pace down the road.
Now Eremit, as we will see, had some experience as a horseman. Though the races and games by which the exceptional horsemen of the east perfect their skill were unknown in the west, still, it was expected that a nobleman would be given at least some instruction in riding, and no exception had been made for Eremit. He was, therefore, able to regulate his speed so that he took as little time to the first post as was possible without harm to his mount. After several hours of riding, then, he reached Hargon’s Point. Having been here on numerous occasions while riding for pleasure, he had no trouble finding the stable.
He woke up the stablemaster who, upon learning who it was, apologized for the hasty words he’d uttered upon being suddenly awakened. Eremit delivered the first note into his hands, whereupon, with hardly a word being spoken, he was given another horse, this one of the sturdy breed that comes from the plains east of the Kanefthali Mountains and was renowned for endurance. After commending Stony into the hands of the groom, and, we should add, saying a fond farewell to the beast, who responded by nuzzling his neck, Eremit set off without another moment’s delay.
While he knew the way to Axelsbroke, he had only been there once or twice, and so was worried about how long it would take to find the stable. Yet, in the event, it was already morning when he arrived, and so he saw, right off the road, the sign of a sleeping horse by which stables are identified. In this case, though he had never met the stablemaster, the letter provided Eremit proved sufficient, and he set off without ceremony or delay on the last stage of his journey.
It was late in the morning, then, when he arrived in sight of Dorindom Castle, having covered a distance of twenty leagues in less than half a day. Though cold, weary, and, indeed, exhausted, he felt, nevertheless, no trace of what we might call sleepiness as he put his final horse into the care of a groom and at once made his way to the castle gate itself, passing under it on foot along with Teckla and tradesmen who were busy buying and selling and dealing with the clerks and intendants of the castle.
Though anxious about finding himself in such a large and busy place for the first time, Eremit sternly reminded himself of the importance of his errand, and bravely strode up directly to the gate, where a pair of guards in Iorich livery and holding halberds kept a watch on the crowd. It was to one of these that he addressed himself in the following terms: “I am Eremit of Cryden, son of Nessit, and I have arrived with an urgent errand to His Benevolence the count. To whom ought I address myself for this purpose?”
“Usher next to the grand stairway,” said the guard laconically.
Eremit gave him a friendly salute—though unsure, it must be said, just what sort of salute, and, indeed, what degree of friendliness was appropriate. Under any other circumstances, his alarm at being in such an unfamiliar environment would have, if not paralyzed him, at least made him hesitant. Yet, and we say it to his credit, the importance of his mission and the faith of those who trusted him drove his feet forward with a determination that utterly concealed any discomfort he may have felt.
His first challenge, as the reader may easily deduce, was to find the grand stairway. He concluded, first, that it must necessarily be a stairway, and, second, that if it were called “grand” then it ought not to be difficult of discovery. Therefore, it was with a certain optimism that he entered the interior of the castle to begin his search.
His first thought as he crossed the threshold was that, if the “grand stairway” was grand compared to the castle, well, it must quite grand indeed. He had now entered Dorindom Castle itself, the political, economic, and social center of Westward, one of the proudest counties in the Duchy of Handsfree, and for a provincial it had no less of an effect than someone from Dragaera City might have felt upon entering the Imperial Palace for the first time. The height of the ceiling was sufficient to generate awe: it was five stories tall, ending in a small dome surrounded by stained glass windows depicting scenes from the settlement of the region in the First Cycle by Queen Kolathnë, afterward Baroness Lowtower, from whom Count Dorin claimed descent.
The reader may observe that we have mentioned the height of the ceiling but not the overall size of the hall. The reason for this apparent omission on the part of the historian may be explained in two words: the hall (called the Hall of Greeting) was so large and, moreover, so full of humanity of all ranks and stations, that Eremit was unable to determine its size, beyond, in the most general terms, large; certainly larger than, in his experience, any single room had any excuse to be. And as Eremit cannot make this determination, and as we have chosen for this time to follow Eremit closely in his movements, it would seem to be a violation of the art of the writer as well as the science of the historian to provide the reader with information of which our friend was unaware.
This being clearly understood, we may now accompany Eremit as he pushes forward, on his countenance the inevitable smile of the lost provincial in his first encounter with what we might call civilization, which word we mean in its oldest sense of the culture of cities, in this case defined as an immense press of people, all of whom, unlike our brave Iorich, seemed to know exactly where they were and, moreover, where they wished to go. With shoulder and knee and occasionally elbow, and one hand, we must confess, upon his purse, Eremit made his way forward, looking around at all times, until at length he spotted what could only be the grand stairway: a wide, sweeping set of steps, all in white marble, that made their way up to a sort of garret marked by a black iron railing against which leaned several persons who gazed out at those below them with the attitudes of unconscious superiority that always accompanies viewing those who are, physically if not socially, beneath us.
In all of the press of Teckla, Iorich, Chreotha, and Jhegaala, as well as the occasional Tiassa or Dragon noble visiting from afar, one figure stood out to Eremit’s ingenious eyes: a simply dressed man, standing utterly still amid the chaos, as a lone rock out in the Ocean-sea that is impervious to, and even bored by, the incessant and acerbating waves that insist on crashing over it. Though unaware of exactly how he knew, Eremit was instantly convinced that this personage, wearing the green and white of the House of the Issola, must be the very usher for whom he had been looking. Upon making this determination he immediately made his way before the individual in question, bowed and addressed him by naming himself and again repeating the nature of his errand, albeit in the most general terms.
The worthy Issola listened carefully, then said, “For this, you must climb this very stairway before which you stand.”
“Very well, I will climb the stairway.”
“And upon reaching the top—”
“Yes, upon reaching the top?”
“Proceed directly back until you see an arched doorway upon the side congruent with your right hand. You are aware of which hand is your right?”
“Nearly,” said Eremit.
“So much the better. To ensure you have the correct archway, observe that there will be inscribed upon it the crow and staff beneath an iorich, this being the symbol of the house of Dorin.”
“Yes, I will look for the arched doorway, with the house symbol engraved upon it.”
“Pass beneath this arch and you will find his lordship the count’s undersecretary, who will make the necessary arrangements. Apropos—”
“Yes?”
“While I do not know the precise nature of your mission, you have an honest face, and I perceive by certain signs that your errand is urgent. Moreover, my question as to your knowledge of your right hand might have been construed as discourteous. Therefore, in hopes of being helpful as well as making up for any slight you may have felt, I hand you this token, upon which is the symbol of the house, and which will indicate to the worthy undersecretary that he must see to your request at the earliest possible moment.”
Eremit accepted the token, saying, “I thank you, and furthermore inform you that I consider you complaisance personified.”
“Well, young man, let us see if you have understood.”
“I have understood entirely, and this is the proof: I ascend this stairway and continue back until I see the archway with the symbol of the house of Dorin. I pass beneath the arch and hand this token to the undersecretary and explain my errand.”
“You have comprehended my meaning in all particulars. It remains, therefore, only for me to wish you success.”
“And you, my lord—may I say that the usefulness of your advice is only exceeded by the kindness with which it was delivered.”
Then, with bows of mutual esteem, they parted, the one to resume his position, the other to follow the instructions he had been given. In the event, he followed these instructions so perfectly, that in a few short moments, he found himself before the very undersecretary of whom the Issola had spoken, and who proved to be an elderly gentleman of the House of the Chreotha who was seated behind a wide desk upon which a few papers were stacked in neat piles, and also upon which rested a large open folio.
For the third time, then, Eremit stated his mission. The old gentleman whom he addressed listened carefully and then, making no response save a slight nod, studied the folio before him, which appeared, from what the Iorich could see, to be something in the nature of a ledger, ruled in each direction, with clear but small writing upon the lines.
“I’m afraid,” said the undersecretary at length, in a low and wheezy voice that Eremit had to strain to hear, “that there are no appointments available with his lordship the count until next month.”
“Well,” said Eremit, “but, you perceive, it is a matter of some urgency. And to prove it, here is this,” whereupon he handed him the token given him by the usher.
The undersecretary displayed no surprise as he accepted the token, but he did nod and say, “Well, if you will be so good as to wait here, I will attempt to ascertain if my lord the count can make time for you.”
“And I will be most grateful to you for doing so.”
“You may, if you wish, have a seat while you wait,” said the gentleman before taking his departure. In the event, Eremit elected to remain standing for the simple reason that he was too anxious to sit—in fact, he was aware of a certain pounding of his heart, and it must be said that he did not so much stand as pace without moving, that is, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back, while his hands went from clasped behind his back, to a position where his right wrist was held in front of him by his left hand, only to return to their previous position, and so back. After these motions had continued for a quarter of an hour, the undersecretary returned.
“Well?” said Eremit.
The worthy gentleman seated himself behind his desk, coughed, arranged the ledger carefully, and, removing a quill from an inkstand, wrote something in it, after which he brushed it with sand. He then picked up the ledger, made a quarter turn, and blew gently. Turning back, he set the ledger down carefully, after which he looked up at Eremit who, as the reader may imagine, was barely able to conceal his impatience, and said, “Through that door, my lord, and all the way back.”
Eremit exhaled loudly, then bowed to the undersecretary and, without wasting either a word or the time it would take to utter it, followed the directions he had been given. These directions, from which he did not deviate (a process made all the easier by how simple they were) brought him to a richly upholstered antechamber attended by a pair of guards in similar attire to those at the castle gate, save only for the addition of gold markings on the cuffs of their uniforms. As Eremit arrived, they crossed their halberds between him and the door and one of them said, “State your name.”
“I am Eremit of Cryden,” he said simply.
“Remove your sword belt,” said the other.
Eremit bowed his head and did so, putting his weapons into the hand of the guard, who then, along with her companion, opened the way to let him pass, her companion even going so far as to open the door.
Eremit then entered a spacious, circular room, with one large chair against the far wall, which chair was occupied by none other than the count himself: a large man with broad shoulders, narrow eyes, and gray hair swept back to highlight his noble’s point, which was especially pronounced. Standing behind him was another, an elderly Iorich woman marked by extreme pallor and a slightly stooped posture. She had her hand upon the arm of the chair in a gesture displaying mostly a need for support, though not devoid of a disagreeable hint of possessiveness. Some nine or ten others stood against sides of the room, speaking quietly with one another in pairs or simply waiting, watching the count. Of these, several were Iorich, dressed as justicers, but there were also Chreotha in the rich garb of merchants, and one young man of perhaps 120 or a 130, which is to say, not significantly older than Eremit, who wore the blue and green of the House of the Orca. This young man, unlike the others, did not watch the count, but instead his regard was fixed on Eremit with an intensity the young Iorich found as surprising as it was inexplicable.
Eremit, nevertheless, went forward to within several paces of the elderly gentleman, then suddenly stopped, as he realized two things of some significance: First, that all of the eyes in the room were now upon him, and second, that he was utterly unacquainted with the proper protocol for this circumstance. After a moment’s hesitation, during which he cursed himself for failing to ask the friendly usher how to behave, it came to him that, whatever the protocol, he could not go far wrong by dropping to a knee and bowing his head, which thought was acted upon the instant it was conceived.
In the event, so far as he could tell, his gesture was well received. “Rise, Sir Eremit,” said Dorin, giving the young man the title that, though rarely used, was formally his due as the oldest son of a baron within the House of the Iorich.
Eremit rose as he was bid and said, “Your Benevolence, I offer my thanks, and the thanks of my mother, the Baroness of Wetrock, for agreeing to see me, and I give you my word, the matter is of some urgency.” As he spoke, he removed the pendant and extended it, saying, “It is my wish to come before the Lord High Justicer.”
Something about these words appeared to upset, or, at any rate, startle the count, who, without taking the pendant, said, “Did you say Wetrock?”
“I did, Your Benevolence.”
“And yet, this name was not pronounced to me by my secretary. He only gave your name as Eremit, son of Nessit.”
“That is my name, Your Benevolence.”
“Well, but I do not question that. But if you are of Wetrock, then your mother is—?”
“The Baroness Sudora, if it please Your Benevolence.”
“Just so, just so.” He frowned, and a stern look came over his countenance. “Why, then, did you conceal this fact when requesting an audience with me?”
“Your Benevolence?” said Eremit, who was by now confused, as well as worried; something was wrong, and he was unable to determine what it was, much less how to repair whatever breach he might have caused. “I do not understand what Your Benevolence does me the honor to say. I have concealed nothing. On the contrary, I have given my name at each stage. If I have not expressly mentioned my mission, it is only because it has been deemed a matter for your ears only, my lord.”
“And yet, here you are, a messenger from Wetrock, and you stand before me, yet I had no knowledge that is what you were.”
Eremit started to speak, but the count gestured him to silence and instead waved a finger to the woman who stood behind him. She bent over, the two of them had a whispered conversation that went on for some moments, during which time a feeling of dread began to rise within Eremit. Several times the count would speak into the woman’s ear, and she would vigorously shake her head and then whisper back, at which time the count would look grim, or angry, or frustrated. At length, he whispered to her, and she appeared to consider it, then slowly nodded, at which point the count relaxed and turned to Eremit with a smile.
“Well, my friend,” he said. “Let us set aside these mere matters of etiquette, shall we?”
“So much the better,” said Eremit, who was still holding the pendant. “May then I speak of my mission? I wish to request an audience with—”
“No, no,” said the count, with a wave of his hand. “I understand your mission to be one of exceptional importance and no small urgency, is it not?”
“That is exactly the case, if it please Your Benevolence.”
“Then I wish to give the matter—whatever it is, for you perceive you have yet to tell me what it involves—my full attention. I am right, am I not, young man? You have not explained your mission to me, or mentioned it to anyone else?”
“I have not, Your Benevolence.”
“So much the better! Then give me leave to conclude my morning’s business and to eat a quick bite. After that, why, at the first hour after noon, I will see you in my study, which also functions as my private audience chamber, and, whatever this matter may be, I will give it my full attention and do everything in my power to see to it you are satisfied with whatever aid you may require. Come, what do you think of this plan?”
As it was just then halfway to the fourteenth hour, it did not seem to Eremit that waiting a mere ninety minutes would make a difference, and, even more, he did not see how he could refuse such a request without discourtesy bordering on insolence, which could do his cause no good. After making these calculations, he bowed low and said, “Then it remains only for me to thank Your Benevolence and promise that I will appear at the appointed time and in the appointed place.”
“Then we are agreed,” said the count. “Until then, my dear young friend.”
“Until then, my lord,” said Eremit. And, not knowing what else to do, he walked backward for several steps, bowed, and turned and left the chamber—which, we should add, if not the precise motions etiquette demanded, was, by chance, close enough to cause little remark and no offense.
Alas for Eremit! For, in the event, though he did not know it, a chance mistake in etiquette was the least of his worries. He left the chamber, recovered his sword belt from the guard, and returned, in all innocence, to the undersecretary, and there asked after the location of the count’s private study, in order to be certain of arriving in a timely manner.
“It is simplicity itself,” he was told in a voice so quiet he had to lean over to hear. “Simply proceed left until you come to a wide hallway on your right-hand side, marked, for reasons which I must confess I do not know, by a symbol of four vertical lines intersecting a single horizontal line. Take that hallway to the end, and there you will meet two guards, who will, if they have been given the necessary orders, permit you into the study.”
“I thank you for your kindness,” said Eremit uselessly, for the old man was paying no attention, but had already returned to his ledger and his notes.
Now Eremit considered the matter, and it seemed to him that, though the directions were clear enough, there was still a chance of him becoming lost in this strange, massive castle. If he might become lost, then, well, he would need time to be found. Under these circumstances, the sooner he attempted to find the room, the more chance, in case of mishap, that he would nevertheless arrive at his appointment on time. As he considered the matter much too serious to risk being late, he resolved to set out for his appointment at once, content to wait outside of the study as long as necessary.
The directions he had been given, as it happened, were both clear and accurate, wherefore in only a few minutes he came to exactly the place described, and there were, as promised, two guards in Iorich livery, though missing the marks on their sleeves, and even without the high boots affected by the guards he had seen before. He saluted them and said, “I greet you. I am called Eremit of Cryden, and I am here by appointment with His Benevolence the count, although I confess, I am here wonderfully early, wherefore I am quite willing to wait wherever you so direct me.”
They looked him over, and one said, “You are, then, Eremit, of Wetrock?”
He bowed. “I have that honor.”
“Son of the Baroness Sudora?”
“Yes, that is it.”
“And you have a pendant to show His Benevolence?”
“This is it.”
“In that case,” said the guard, “you need not wait at all, but, on the contrary, may go in at once.”
“How,” said Eremit. “And yet it is over an hour before the time agreed upon.”
“As to that,” said the guard, “I do not say it isn’t.”
“And then?”
“Well, my orders are, first, to ascertain your identity, which I have done.”
“Oh, as to that, well, you have carried out that order to the letter.”
The guard bowed. “And after that, I was to desire you to enter the count’s private study as soon as you wished.”
“Well,” said Eremit, “if those are your orders, I have nothing more to say about it. But do you wish for my sword belt?”
“Oh, as to that, certainly you must leave your sword belt with us, and, of course, it will be returned to you on your departure.”
“I do not doubt you in the least. And the proof is, here, I remove my belt and place it willingly in your hand.”
“So much the better,” muttered the other guard. Meanwhile, the first one, after having taken Eremit’s belt and set it against the wall, opened the door, then stepped to the side. Eremit, looking past him, saw a tidy, well-appointed room full of bookshelves and comfortable chairs. It seemed to be unoccupied, and yet, it would no doubt be a more diverting place to wait than standing in the hall; he told himself he must remember to thank the count for his kindness in this matter.
He then bowed to the two guards and stepped forward into the study, whereupon he was struck a blow in the back of the head and remembered no more.