The Seedbearing Prince: Part I (26 page)

“Preceptor,” The Lord Ascendant interjected.
“Nassir knows the worlds you will journey to. Once your task is
complete, you will deliver the Seed to Master Irwin Dosay on Panen.
I'm sure you realize how important the Seed will be for the Ring's
endeavors on that world.”

Lurec's eyes widened as far as they could go.
“Yes, Lord Ascendant!”

Why is he suddenly so eager now?
Dayn
wondered. There were hardly any people on the world of Panen that
Dayn knew of. The Lord Ascendant abruptly ended the audience before
he could ask questions.

“There is nothing else then? Good.” She stood
briskly. “You leave to Suralose at once. I’ve sanctioned the use of
a transport for your entire journey. Nassir, you’re free to choose
your navigators.”

“Yes, Force Lord.” Nassir bowed deeply.

“We know the price of failure should we fail
to rouse the worlds. Thar’Kur will return us to the days of the
Breach, or worse.” She raised her arms to include them all, holding
the Seed like some strange and ancient scepter. “Peace protect you,
Light of the Ring,” she intoned.

The Lord Ascendant stepped down from the
dais. She tossed the Seed to Dayn, unceremoniously looping it
beneath the hanging veil. He caught it automatically, surprised. A
choking sound bubbled in Lurec's throat. Dayn could see her faintly
now, standing so close to the veil. The Force Lord’s dark eyes
shone with encouragement, her voice was hard as steel. “You are a
Seedbearer now. Though we offer guidance, you do not serve the
Ring. The entire World Belt hangs on your words. Be true in your
task, Dayn Ro'Halan. Peace protect you, also...brother.”

Shock shone on every Defender’s face.

“Depart to serve!” the Lord Ascendant barked
as she turned back to the Veiled Throne, an edge of amusement in
her voice.

The Preceptor and Defenders all replied in
unison. “We serve the worlds.”

“I serve my world,” Dayn added. The Ringmen
all stared at him strangely, and he flushed. Their eyes seemed to
accuse him of selfishness, as if he declared Shard more important
than the rest. He would remember that in the future, even though he
was no Defender. But it still sounded like the right thing to
say.

Nassir planted himself in front of Dayn as
the other Defenders filed out. Dayn opened his mouth to explain
himself, but the Defender spoke first.

“The transport is already prepared. We meet
in the transport bay by first bell. An attendant will be sent for
you.” He abruptly strode out after the other Defenders, nearly
trampling Lurec.

The Preceptor glared after him for a moment,
then sighed and clapped his hand cheerfully on Dayn's back. Dayn
could tell it took an effort for Lurec not to snatch the Seed from
his hand as they left the throne room together. Another attendant
met Dayn’s eyes and nodded silently.

“I’ll have to find someone to monitor my
studies,” Lurec murmured. He called out to Nassir and the Defender
turned impatiently. “Force General! When will we arrive to
Suralose?”

“Midday, by their turn,” Nassir said gruffly.
His eyes flickered back to Dayn. “Sleep, if you can. It is
difficult to adjust to the turn of a new world.” He walked off once
more, intent on catching up to his fellows.

“Is that all he's going to say?” Dayn
muttered.

Nassir's voice floated down the hallway.
“Dress warm.” Then he was gone, leaving Dayn and Lurec alone in the
antechamber.

First World

The worst beasts of the torrent defy reason. They
are born with iron hides, likely iron lungs, and barely resemble
their Beltbound progenitors. I doubt they truly came from the same
stock, before the Breach. Either that or the torrent has twisted
them. Crater wolves with glowing red eyes and silver teeth hunt in
the largest erratics. A ragehawk's beak can bite a Defender's armor
in half.

-excerpt from Guardian Benlor’s Third Circuit

D
ayn’s own room was
half the size of Lurec’s study but just as full of curiosities. He
insisted that the bleary-eyed attendant who escorted him
demonstrate everything.

There was a crystal panel worked into the
room’s stone that ‘remembered’ his touch and turned on lights
hidden in the walls. The room also boasted a bath of green-glazed
stone set in its own corner. The Ringman showed how it swirled
steaming water in a tight circle from floor to ceiling, strong
enough to all but do his scrubbing for him. Everything else about
the room seemed dull after that wonder, a plainly sheeted bed and
two shelves along the wall, all chiseled from the same dreary
stone.

“That will wash your clothes as well, and
we’ve provided more. Initiate blacks, I’m afraid, but it’s all we
have on hand that could fit you.” The attendant pointed out the
change of clothes, folded crisply alongside dark towels, then took
his leave. Dayn eagerly peeled off his torn field linens and met
his second surprise.

All of his bruises from the Dreadfall were
gone. Only a jagged arc of pink scars stood out on the brown skin
of his shoulder and chest from the wreathweaver’s bite. The scrapes
and cuts he had suffered in the redbranch were all vanished as
well, when there should at least be scabs.

He could not stop staring at his scars as he
washed, and wondered if they would fade away before his eyes. Dayn
decided against telling Lurec. Somehow the Seed had clearly healed
him, but he did not want to be locked away with tadpoles and
minnows for some study.

After touching the wall for darkness, Dayn
suspected he slept less than an hour before another attendant was
at his door. He chose to wear clothes from home, two shirts and a
fleece-lined brown overcoat. Along with his lucky red cloak, of
course. The crusted mud on his boots had not yet dried, but he had
no time to clean them, and they were the only ones he owned. He put
his coursing gear and gems into one pack along with the Seed. He
took up his staff, and left the Initiate blacks where they lay.

Dayn whisked off down the Ring’s halls after
the attendant, receiving more curious stares than a ridgecat shaved
bald. He boarded a transport that already held his waiting Ringman
protectors. A nod from Lurec and a grunt from Nassir, and they
lifted off.

“First time to Suralose, Shardian?” The
navigator Samli called over his shoulder from the vapor array of
the transport, after an hour or so of silence.

“First time anywhere.” Dayn eagerly piped up.
Outside of checking Dayn's pack, Nassir acted as though he did not
exist. Lurec murmured a few encouraging words after the transport
lifted, but had since lapsed into his own thoughts. He frowned now
as though he could not get an unpleasant taste from his mouth.

Neither Ringman shared words even now, and
their foul mood grew faster than tripthorn vines. Dayn could not
decide what irked the Ringmen more, the Lord Ascendant's command or
their mutual dislike for each other.

The navigators, Samli and Cedrek, looked at
each other sagely. “You sure you brought enough clothes?”

“Peace, I hope so.”

“Hope won’t keep you warm for long,” Samli
observed.

“Nor will peace, lad,” Cedrek added.

Dayn sneaked a look at his Ringmen
protectors. Lurec wore a thick overcoat, sporting a hood that
enveloped his face in a ring of gray and white fur. From the little
Dayn could see of him, it made the man sweat profusely.

Nassir's armor looked unchanged, but upon
closer examination, he saw black sleeves poking out beneath the
metal cuffs. Dayn felt less embarrassed about his own extra
clothing. A Defender's ebon mask rested on Nassir's chest, with a
wicked brow over angular eyeslits that promised violence. Intricate
symbols that Dayn could not decipher were etched in straight lines
across the cheekbones and temples, and seven inch-long spikes made
a row from chin to forehead.
Almost improves his face,
Dayn
thought with a smirk.

Nassir's only effects consisted of a long,
cumbersome pack strapped crosswise down his back. Dayn fell
somewhere between the sparsity of the Defender and Lurec's
ridiculous overcoat. The Preceptor had also brought enough metal
trunks to fill a wagon, likely more of his tools to study the Seed
between each world they visited.

“I think I'll manage just fine,” Dayn
said.

“You might need an extra cloak,” Cedrek
laughed. He looked out of place in the navigator’s chair, and could
have easily passed for a Mistland farmer, aside from his short
height and round belly. He wore a completely shaved head, except
for an odd-looking tuft under his chin.

“If it were as cold as you say, people
wouldn’t live there.” Dayn suspected the pair just meant to nettle
him, so he gave their words little weight.

“That may be true, but your thin Shardian
skin is what troubles us,” Samli replied. “You see, there’s a wager
in the transport bay. Some of us think you'll manage all the way to
the stronghold. Suralose flight decrees won't let us take you right
outside the front door, foolish as their reasons are. So you walk.”
He chuckled. “Most wager you won't get two steps past our hold
door.”

“Personally, I think those two―” Cedrek
nodded at the two Ringmen “―will spend most of the day thawing you
out.”

Dayn dug in his pack for his bag of gems.
Mother always thinks of everything.
He pulled one out
without looking at it and tossed it to the navigators. With a
muffled oath, Samli pulled a hand from the vapor array to catch it.
The transport pitched slightly to one side.

“By Tu'um's shadow, Shardian!” Cedrek barked.
“Don't ever do that if you want to see ground again!” The
navigators glanced nervously into the hold, but Nassir did not even
look up.

Dayn shrugged apologetically. “That wager
says I'll last outside as long as the Ringmen. Is it enough?” Samli
stared down into his palm. “Or is it too late to bet on
myself?”

“I could live like a Regent with this,” Samli
said slowly. He shook his head before tossing the gem back to Dayn,
a clouded ember-eye.

“But it’s bad manners to give back a gem,”
Dayn protested. “Even if it’s just a bet.”

“We gamble for bits and favors, Shardian,”
Samli explained. “Better to not flash your treasure around so
freely, especially where he plans to take you.” He nodded
meaningfully at the Defender and looked as though he might say more
until Cedrek harrumphed loudly.

“Mind your nose, tenderwing. The torrent
looks odd today.”

“Yes, sir.”

What could worry them so?
Dayn
thought. Nassir appeared to be highly regarded, although the
Defender clearly disdained this quest. Dayn imagined that a general
must rank highly.

“What about you, Samli?” Dayn asked, deciding
not to press the matter further. “Where’s your bet?”

“Well, I don't think you’ll buckle in the
cold, not after what I saw when we first picked you up,” the
navigator replied, ignoring Cedrek's snort. “In fact, I'd stake my
flight badge that the first person to go is the Pre―”

Cedrek removed a hand from his vapor cloud
just long enough to cuff Samli in the ribs. Samli wheezed and
snapped his mouth shut.

“Every world lends some special strength to
its people.” Nassir spoke so suddenly Dayn jumped. He fixed Dayn in
place with his somber gaze.

“Suralose began as an outpost, dedicated to
mining and replenishing ice for the World Belt. Once, the worlds
cast lots on who would send new overseers every ten years. Over the
centuries, the different groups intermingled through marriage and
friendship, until they eventually chose to stay and govern
themselves. Suralosans exist due to generations of service,
ensuring the World Belt will never suffer drought.”

“Not quite the same tradition as Shard, but
the closest by far,” Lurec added, finally stirring from his own
thoughts. “Suralose water rations may not save as many lives as
your Pledge, but they are no less important.”

“Yes.” Nassir said. His eyes bored
uncomfortably into Dayn. “Do you see why Lord Adazia chose this
world as your first destination?”

“We are both covenant worlds,” Dayn said,
recalling his trade lessons. “If voidwalkers threatened us both,
the whole Belt would stop to listen.”

“Simply put, but good enough for our
purposes.” The expression on Nassir's face reminded Dayn of his
neighbor Grahm, once he finally taught the dullest puppy of a new
litter to fetch sticks. “I suppose that’s what the Force Lord
intended.”

Lurec nodded placidly as though Nassir had
just proclaimed that water was wet. “I hope Lord Adazia is right, I
truly do.” He frowned at the Defender's contemptuous snort. “How
many of the Seed’s secrets could I be unlocking this moment? We
leave the protection of a thousand Defenders to fly naked through
the torrent for this unwarranted effort at diplomacy. You know my
words for truth, Defender―admit it!”

The navigators both stared back into the hold
with concern.

Nassir's voice frosted the cramped interior.
“Do you question the Lord Ascendant’s gesture of goodwill? Would
you choose where the Seed is gifted, Preceptor?”

Lurec's face colored red. “That’s not what I
intended, I―” he stopped with a sullen look.

Dayn sighed as the silence descended once
more. Even the navigators' high spirits faltered, their banter
replaced by mutterings.

“By the Mandrel Tower, they never said it was
valuable!” Samli whispered fiercely. “They can put that Seed on top
of his staff and call it a scepter for all I care! What about the
Eadrinn Gohr?”

Dayn's pulse quickened. He bent down to
scratch absently at his boot so his eavesdropping did not look too
obvious. The Eadrinn Gohr were the peoples of two separate worlds
in the Belt, whose inhabitants refused all trade or contact, even
Shard's Pledge. They were said to kill anyone who ventured to their
worlds, and pirated transports they captured in the torrent.