Feelings of relief spread rapidly throughout the group when the city came into view. The sun, surprisingly, had only begun its descent towards the horizon. The city honor guard hastened them to the gates, where Chancellor Van’te welcomed them to the city. A cheer arose from the men as Valam announced that they were to be assigned quarters and then released to wander the city as they would. He also promised to ensure that the city’s taverns flowed with ale until the last man passed out.
A small contingent of honor guard, those who had accompanied Valam to Imtal, waited patiently for their instructions. They were still mounted and seated quietly. Valam was just about to mount when a soft voice reached him.
“Lord Valam, may I have a word with you?” quietly, respectfully intoned one of the mounted guard.
“Why, of course,” said Valam. Chancellor Van’te was quick to whisper a name in the prince’s ear. Valam smoothly appended, “Bowman Ylsa.”
“I don’t know if you have noticed, my lord, but I am not a man,” the woman spoke kindly, not harshly as she dismounted. Ylsa unbundled her hair and let it flow long. “I prefer the title of Archer if you do not mind.”
“I— I— I—” stuttered Valam.
The chancellor whispered in his ear again, “Strong spirited, isn’t she?” The chancellor scrutinized Ylsa closely now, smiling.
“Yes, yes indeed,” said Valam louder than he wished in reply to Van’te’s statement.
“Good,” said Ylsa smiling, “have a pleasant evening, my lord, prince.”
Ylsa turned and walked away, leading her mount behind her.
“She is a Bowman First Rank,” intoned the chancellor happily, “Do you wish to know more? I will gladly inquire for you.”
“No, Chancellor Van’te. I do not wish to know more. Thank you.”
The chancellor smiled a devilish smile, knowing the frustrated tone of his lord prince. He would tell Isador of this one; perhaps she could spark an interest as a concubine, forcing him to a wife of standing.
The palace proper was a short distance away; and once within its guarded walls, Valam felt he had truly come home. Quashan’ palace wasn’t as grand as Imtal’s. It didn’t have grand gardens stretching through numerous courtyards or sanctioned council halls. It was a simple four-towered castle with a meager courtyard, a fair-sized armory, and a modest stable.
The gatehouse held, but a single shielding portcullis and inner rampart had only recently been rebuilt. The palace proper was a separate building, two stories in height, that sat squarely in the center of the rear bastion. Still, Valam admired its simple beauty as he waited for a stable boy to retrieve his mount, telling the boy to make certain that he had rubbed the horse down fully before he turned in for the night.
Chancellor Van’te quickly had hot baths drawn for Valam, Seth, and Father Jacob, insisting that they bathe and rest before they held any type of council. Introductions, although extremely cordial, were very brief.
When they were suitably rested, the chancellor returned. He ushered them downstairs, telling them someone was waiting for them, an old acquaintance. At the same time, Seth and Valam thought, Adrina, and asked where she was. Van’te assured them it was not any one Valam knew, rather an old friend of Seth’s, which perplexed both Seth and Valam.
“Why all the mystery?” asked Valam.
“Would you spoil an old man’s fun?” asked Chancellor Van’te.
“And mine!” responded another.
Seth recognized the voice, or at least he thought he recognized the voice, though it could not be.
“Yes, your hearing is fine, Brother Seth, first of the order of the Red, protector of the Queen-Mother.”
“But how?” asked Seth in disbelief.
“I am quite tough myself,” said the man behind the voice, as he stepped out of the shadows to embrace Seth.
Valam was totally lost; he had never seen this stranger before, nor had Van’te mentioned him in any of the messages to his father.
“The Great-Father must still have plans for me.”
Valam fixed Chancellor Van’te with angry eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“He only arrived here early last week. Your group had already departed when the message reached Imtal Palace.”
“How is it that we missed your messenger on the road?” asked Valam skeptically.
“Honest, my lord, he went via Veter and then on to Imtal.”
“It is truly great to see you again!” exclaimed Seth.
Valam was still confused. The man appeared to be of the same stature as Seth, the skin color was the same, the hair, the eyes, yet he seemed to lack something. Valam couldn’t quite place what it was. When formal introductions were finally made, Valam and Van’te excused themselves to allow the two friends to catch up on the past.
Seth and Cagan talked long into the night. Seth first explained his experiences in Imtal and then Cagan told how he had come to meet Chancellor Van’te. He spoke of the blind man who had found and befriended him and mended his broken leg and treated his wounds. The saltwater had fouled the wounds and nearly rotted the leg. Poison was festering and spreading through his body. He had almost lost his leg and his life, but the old gentleman had been able to save them both.
Afterwards, there was nothing more the two could say, so they retired to their beds, seeking to catch as much sleep as possible before the sun rose high in the heavens. As Seth lay in bed, he thought back to the last time he had seen Cagan. It had been just before the ship went down. His mind jumped to the letter Cagan had given him in those few frantic moments in which the Queen-Mother spoke of what he must do and why. No matter the cost, the two must survive. Seth had learned of his fate that day and it had carried him through experiences he would not have endured otherwise.
His mind exploded as the rationalization hit him; he now understood the Queen-Mother’s cryptic message. The Father had already seen to their needs. He had been blind in his thinking about Galan; if his mind had been open, he would have known that the Father would not have let them fail. He had denied fate and tempted destiny. Galan should have been allowed to pass; it was her time and now she was gone forever. She did not even rest in the house of the Father.
Images flashed through his mind. Seth could not deny the feelings of guilt. His thoughts were scattered to and fro. He tried to close his tired eyes and find solace in sleep, yet the face came to him and would not allow him to do so. As he lay staring at the ceiling, another face danced within his thoughts and even in sleep the two faces found him.
Valam had not been idle the previous night; he and the good chancellor stayed up well into the early morning hours discussing plans for the camp to be set up near the coast, the progress of arms production, the acquisition of supplies, and many other things. The rumors of continued unrest in the Minors wandered into their conversation from time to time though the chancellor seemed to think the rumors were idle chatter. Valam was inclined to believe him. They had many contacts in each of the kingdoms and if something were really taking place, they would know.
Over the course of the next several days, the base camp was constructed, and training and recruitment began. Once the camp was set up and supplies and arms were distributed, Valam’s fears concerning the other kingdoms disappeared. Runners were sent to all areas of the kingdom, including the major cities of the north and east. Valam intentionally sent two sets of runners to Imtal and within days those that had been gathering around the city and those that were filling its guest houses, inns and streets, quickly raced southward.
Word of mouth spread fastest through the countryside and after a time Valam sent out no more runners. He allowed rumors and excitement to do the work that it would have taken his runners a fortnight to do. The camp, which was already of generous proportions, housing a massive contingent that represented nearly a third of the Imtal garrison, a select stock from the garrison outposts along the route from Imtal to Quashan’, and a healthy number of mercenaries from the Free Cities, nearly doubled in seven days, yet it wasn’t only soldiers and mercenaries that joined the encampment. Peddlers, merchants, and hustlers of all sorts descended upon the camp. Valam found that he had his hands full just controlling the crowds.
Perimeter patrols were set up around the camp along with a continuous watch. Controlled checkpoints were erected at the four ordinal points of the compass. Mounted patrols rode constantly, surveying the area the soldiers now referred to as Peddler Town, a place where nearly everything that could be bought or sold in the Free Cities was readily available. A fence had to be erected around the training grounds to hold back the spectators and this seemed to be the thing that set Valam on fire.
A decree went forth written in Chancellor Van’te’s own hand. Those that defied the patrols would no longer be set free or levied with a simple fine. A mandatory sentence of servitude was called for—service in the army of Great Kingdom until the transgressors had fulfilled their obligation to the state. Suddenly, and without much surprise, Peddler Town quieted, the patrols no longer had difficulties twenty-four hours a day, and the training grounds were vacated during practice hours. A disturbance happened now and then, but only a few times a day, which Valam counted as a divine gift.