The Seer And The Sword (7 page)

By early autumn, a weak sun shone through grey skies. A cape covered Torina’s dress as she bent to scatter seeds in shallow furrows she’d dug herself. The girl felt she couldn’t wait through the long winter to see blossoms in her garden. Gramere had promised the snow would seal the seeds they’d gathered, and the spring melt would germinate her flowers.

Gramere sat on a bench nearby, propped with cushions and bundled in shawls, asleep. Torina looked at her with affection. No one else knew how often she slept these days. If they found out, they’d probably assign someone else to watch over the princess.

She looked at the cleared beds she’d laboured over. Ancilla believed nothing was better for health than exercise in the open air, claiming that her own long life was due to the outdoors. But Gramere was not the only one with a say in the way her granddaughter spent her days. Torina thought of the dark winter evenings approaching, with nothing to do but sew. No more digging in the meadows and gardens or riding Stina after dinner.

A pebble landed in front of her. She looked up. Standing in the ruddy leaves bordering her garden, Landen beckoned. She glanced at Ancilla and stepped over the dark brown earth into the trees.

‘Landen.’ She smiled at him, thinking he looked healthy and good. Dark hair curled round high cheekbones and large eyes.

‘Hello, Princess,’ he said, as if sharing a secret. ‘I have something for you.’

‘For me?’

He reached into a bush and pulled out a small bow and a cluster of feathered arrows.

Torina took the bow and stroked its silky wood. The grain had been cut to look like a bird’s wing.

‘How beautiful. Where did you get it?’ She hefted it lightly.

‘I made it.’

‘You made it! But how can I keep it? My father won’t let me have a bow.’

‘Keep it in the woods. It has a leather case to protect it from the weather.’

‘Oh! I could hide it!’

‘Yes. And if you want to meet me sometimes, I could teach you archery.’

He would teach her! He’d won the seltec over everyone else. He must know a great deal.

Torina and her grandmother had a picnic planned for the next day by the great pine in the meadow. Eagerly she asked if he could be there. He agreed, then turned to go.

‘Goodbye then. Thank you! But Landen, how
did you know I wanted a bow?’ she asked his back.

‘How did you know I was hanging from the cliff?’ he threw over his shoulder. In a moment, the leaves swallowed him.

One spring evening, Emid took a walk to the soldiers’ quarters and asked to speak to Eric. The young man had joined Commander Franton’s troop, a division serving directly under King Kareed. As the air was warm and the sky clear, Emid proposed a walk.

‘I want to ask you a question, Eric. It’s about your friend, Landen.’

Eric raised an eyebrow. ‘Landen? What trouble is he in now? He certainly learned how to defend himself well, I thought. . .’

‘It’s nothing like that. No. A disciplinary problem.’

‘Problem?’ Eric stifled a grin.

‘He goes his own way, at least twice a month. He leaves without permission, and refuses to account for himself.’

‘Ah. Is there a schedule?’

‘No. I’ve deprived him of supper, barred him from games and forced him to extra hours of practice. Nothing makes a difference. Landen takes his punishment without resentment. Then he goes his own way again.’

Eric’s smile broke out. ‘Doesn’t say where he goes?’

‘He answers “out hunting” and sometimes brings small game back with him.’

‘Have you had him shadowed?’

‘I’ve made it a tracking exercise.’ Emid shrugged.

‘What’s the trouble with this?’ Eric grew serious.

Emid sighed. ‘I’ve been charged to train this lad. He’s just a boy, true, and good-hearted. But he’s the only son of a conquered king. He was once groomed to be a ruler. I begin to believe he’ll never obey orders without question. This innocent hunting may be more than it appears.’

Eric’s face was guarded now. ‘Why do you come to me?’

‘You’re his friend. Has he ever said anything to you?’

‘No.’

‘And if he did?’

‘You wonder which would be stronger, my loyalty to my friend, or my loyalty to my king?’

Emid’s mouth was dry. ‘I suppose that’s it.’

‘I’m sorry you doubt me, Emid. My training comes from you. I’m sorry you doubt Landen. He’s my friend and I stand by him. But he could never make me forget my duty.’

Emid realized he must trail Landen himself.

His chance came the following day. He led the boys on a gruelling hike, and asked them to get in groups and find their own way back. He watched as the clusters formed. Landen neither joined nor led any of the rest. Emid started off in cautious pursuit.

He was surprised at how fast the boy gained distance from the appointed direction. Emid had to use all his skill as Landen performed expert doubling manoeuvres. Once Emid almost lost the trail. Only dogged tracking allowed the chase to go on.

Landen hurried to an obscure meadow, deep in the trees but not far from the king’s castle. Emid was startled to see old Queen Ancilla, sound asleep in the new spring grass.

Everyone knew the ancient mother of the king loved to take walks with her grandchild. Emid often met the two on their outings. The old woman was strong and lively enough to take short hikes in any direction. But alone?

Puzzled and wary, Emid went past the meadow and followed Landen’s tracks into the forest. He soon saw other, smaller footprints leading in the same direction. His heart beat fiercely. Landen and Princess Torina? What could they have to do with each other? They didn’t know each other well – what could bring them to meet? Or was it a meeting? Had the princess simply noticed the boy and wandered after him?

Emid inched his way on through thick trees. Tender spring leaves gave cover. The sound of carefree children’s laugher soared towards him like a rush of birds. He slithered forward on his stomach to see.

A small glade in the trees. There stood Torina, face shining, eyes sparkling, hair wild, with a bow in her hand. She looked at Landen with trust and enjoyment. He smiled at her with familiar friendship.

‘But why do you want me to shoot left-handed?’ Emid heard her ask.

‘Because you’re too good with your right and I can’t beat you.’

‘Liar! You always beat me!’

‘You need to be able to shoot with both. What if someone hurts your right hand?’

‘No one would do that.’

‘No one would do that because you’re a princess? You say you want to protect your kingdom.’

Protect her kingdom!
Emid’s chest tightened with outrage. She had soldiers to do that. What was this troublesome boy up to? Princess Torina should not be taught to fear.

A thought struck the trainer. Living as a prince in Bellandra, Landen had probably not been taught to fear. Indeed, before Kareed’s bold attack, Bellandra was considered invincible. The reputation of its legendary Sword had deterred invaders for generations. What had it cost the boy to go undefended? Emid knew the answer. It had cost him everything but his life.

How did these two come together? And what would come of it? It was innocent enough now, Landen teaching the young girl archery. But later, when they were no longer children? What about when they became man and woman?

Emid watched the entire lesson, struck with the degree of their camaraderie, and amazed at the prowess displayed. They must have met many times for Torina to gain so much expertise, and for both children to treat the other with unguarded ease. How odd it was to watch Landen here in the woods, laughing and teasing like a normal youngster. Gone was the quiet reserve Emid had come to think of as Landen’s nature.

The longer he observed, the more uncomfortable Emid became. He knew already, of course, that Torina
often found comrades among the boys. Emid had encouraged this. These boys he trained would lead the fighting forces of Archeld. If their allegiance to Torina was personal as well as dutiful, so much the better.

But this. This was a full-fledged friendship on an equal footing. Landen didn’t try to be a prince for a princess. He didn’t have to try.

In less than an hour, it was Landen who remembered the time. Emid listened to them arrange another meeting. Both scampered off as if they had no cares.

The trainer stretched his stiff muscles and made his way back to the practice field.

What am I to do?
King Kareed would never condone his daughter taking archery lessons, let alone from the son of a former enemy. If he learned about this, the boy would be sent away, perhaps killed. And Torina? She’d be restricted to the castle and her embroidery.

Emid envisioned Torina, pale and listless, sitting by the hearth with her needle. Then came the memory of her standing in the trees, colour high, eyes bright as she bent the bow.

Emid sent the boys back to the barracks and remained alone on the practice field, pacing distractedly. If I tell the king, I destroy this boy I’ve come to respect and like. And the princess will pine away. If I keep it from the king, do I forfeit my vow to serve the royal family?

Back and forth, back and forth, Emid paced. He kept seeing Landen in his mind’s eye and found himself shaking his head in admiration and fear.

Kareed had taken in an eaglet and had it carelessly
fostered as if it were no more than a clipped chicken. Was it possible the king didn’t expect his captive’s heritage to show? It was said that when Kareed’s legions arrived in Bellandra, they were met by gentle soldiers, interested in negotiating rather than battling. Did Kareed so despise Bellandra’s weakness that he assumed the Bellandran prince would never be a fighter?

To Emid, it was obvious every day from the way Landen spoke to his penchant for following his own course, that he was a king’s son. He was mastering every bit of information taught. He’d grow up to be a dangerous warrior.

What was better for the house of Archeld? Send Landen away, kill him? Or try to make him a commander in Archeld’s army? The boy would not only be skilful in battle, but a brilliant strategist as well. But could he offer unquestioning loyalty to the land that had destroyed his own? Could anything truly bind Landen to Archeld?

Again, Emid saw the glade in his inner vision. This time he focused on Landen looking at Torina, all the fervour of true friendship shining in his eyes.

Landen would never feel loyalty to Kareed, but for Torina, he already felt it. Torina was the future of Archeld. The princess had unknowingly converted what could have been her country’s worst foe into an ally. How had it happened?

Emid suspected he never would find out. He drew a long breath. He had made up his mind. The boy did not deserve to die for befriending Kareed’s daughter. His
friendship was a protection on her future. Emid would say nothing.

He knew it was possible someone else would discover them. He hoped they would be crafty.

A few days after Torina’s twelfth birthday, Landen met her by the great pine. It was only the fourth time in three years they’d used that particular spot.

Her ocean-coloured eyes were wet. ‘I escaped my chaperones, Landen. They say Gramere is too old to look after me. They’ll be guarding me always now. I pleaded with them, but they don’t care: “You are becoming a young woman and must conduct yourself as such.” They have no ears when I tell them I don’t
want
to conduct myself as such.’

Landen’s heart squeezed in sudden pain. The secret meetings with Torina had put life into his exile. What had begun as archery lessons had become much more. Not only could Torina shoot remarkably well, she was his dearest companion. For years, at least once a week, they’d found a way to meet, playing and talking together as only equal friends can do.

For she was his equal. Not because she was born and raised royal: in fact, he found her imperious bearing tiresome. It was something about Torina herself. Landen admired the girl’s vivacious flaming spirit, so
like her hair. With him, she often forgot to be an arrogant princess, showing innate kindness and a keen sense of honour. Buoyantly, she shared confidences, trusting him with her many triumphs and defeats, telling him of her mischievous little rebellions. She was guileless. He felt able to ask her anything in the world.

There was one thing, though, he’d never enquired of her, though he’d often thought of doing so. He hadn’t asked her to look in the crystal and find the Sword of Bellandra. Oh, how he wanted to know! He’d heard the rumours that it was destroyed, melted down in a careful ritual. But he didn’t know. Before he put it out of his mind for ever, he wanted to be sure.

Torina could tell him. She’d made him the confidant of all her visions. He was amazed at the truth of her sight, the extent of her gift. Oh yes, she could tell him what had become of the Sword. A thousand times, the question was on his lips. Then he’d look into her innocent eyes, and something would stop him.

‘I hate being a princess!’ she stormed, sliding to the ground and covering her face to cry. Landen knelt beside her, whispering the only comfort he felt.

‘I’m glad I know you.’

She nodded, making small, choked sounds.

He stroked her hair. ‘Torina, I’ll always be your friend.’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘My dearest friend.’

What could be more precious than hearing her say that?

‘One day you’ll have the power to do as you please.’

She gathered a handful of pine needles in one hand, large tears gliding over her flushed cheeks.

‘Yes, some day. And until then, I’ll remember you.’ She reached out to him.

Embracing her was something he’d never done. It felt easy and right to hold her.

‘I must go,’ she said, after a few moments. ‘They’ll be looking for me.’

He opened his arms. He could hear her muffled sniffs as she ran off. Landen sat propped against the huge pine, feeling a swift sense of loss. As he looked across his life, he saw Archeld again the way it had seemed when he first arrived: fearsome, barbaric, devoid of justice.

His mind drifted back to Bellandra and images of boyhood. For years, he’d put such thoughts aside as too painful to bear. Now he remembered.