Corlas arrived in the personal chambers of the Throne. Time had treated Naphur well and, save some extra lines on his brow, he was the same man who’d strode into the Open Castle eighteen years before. Fahren, who stood smoking at an open wall, was a bit less sprightly these days, but everyone still thought he’d live forever. The Throne, who reclined in a voluminous red armchair with a glass of wine, now had streaks of grey at the temples and, though he was still stout and strong, had developed a paunch.
‘Ah, Corlas,’ he said. ‘Have a seat and get some wine into the bloodline Corinas.’
‘Thank you,’ said Corlas, sitting. ‘How was your trip?’
‘Surprisingly pleasant,’ said Naphur. ‘Contrary to expectations.’ He turned to Fahren. ‘You know how I feel about the Trusted of Centrus –’
‘You don’t trust him,’ said Fahren.
‘– but Baygis was quite happy to lead the negotiations. That fox could convince the rain to fall sideways. Anyway, it gave me time to uncover a nest of huggers outside Kahlay and do the Trusted a favour by leading my personal guard against them.’
‘A favour?’ chuckled Fahren. ‘I’d say it was the huggers who did you a favour by providing you with some sport, poor beasts.’
‘Poor beasts, Arkus’s arse! Rip your ribs out your back as soon as hiss at you. Anyway, I’ve decided to make Baygis my chief ambassador, which has inflated his ego even more. Just what was needed.’
‘So he’s giving up his duties as overseer?’
‘He thinks he can do both and he’s welcome to try. Maybe he’ll be too busy with it all to annoy me as much.’ He turned back to Corlas. ‘On the subject of sons, we were just discussing your prodigy. I understand Bel’s partner will be unfit to serve as a keeper for some time?’
‘So I’ve heard,’ said Corlas.
‘Well, although it would be easy enough to assign him another partner, I’ve been debating about whether or not to pull Bel from the keepers entirely.’ He sat forward in his cushions. ‘I want to assign him to a troop.’
Corlas was surprised, though not displeased.
‘A couple of days ago,’ said Naphur, ‘we received news of a hugger infestation near the forest town of Drel. You may have heard?’
‘Aye.’
‘The Drel soldiers are managing to keep the huggers out of the town, but they don’t have the numbers to go into the forest and deal with the source. I’m sending a troop and I’d like Bel to be in it. The troop leader is Munpo, a capable man who’s fought huggers many times.’
‘I know of him.’
‘So,’ continued the Throne, ‘I guess I want to know if you agree with this course of action.’
Corlas smoothed down his beard, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. ‘As we know, Bel has always been extremely skilled with whatever weapon is put in his hands. There is little more he can learn from us without actually entering the fray. I also know he grows impatient with his confinement behind the wards.’ The taskmaster shifted his weight. ‘I would ask why you accelerate him, though. Others will wonder too.’
‘Others will have to believe that it’s because of his great skill,’ said Naphur. ‘The truth is, if Bel is to do the things he is supposed to do, he must have experience in the field. Fahren still harbours doubts about Bel following a warrior’s path, but I do not. I wish to see how he fares in harm’s way.’
The Throne seemed confident Bel would succeed easily, which made Corlas uneasy. The lad was untried in any real way, yet Naphur appeared to consider him an instant hero. The fact that Bel could swing a sword well in training was no guarantee of safety on the battlefield. Nothing was.
‘I approve,’ said Corlas, ‘of Munpo’s inclusion also. But …’ He was troubled. The High Mage wasn’t interjecting with his usual concerns for Bel’s protection, so Corlas was forced to express them himself. ‘Do you not fear for his safety?’ he asked. ‘By which I mean beyond the huggers themselves?’
‘Indeed,’ said Fahren. ‘Of course.’
‘So what are we going to do?’
Fahren shrugged. ‘Be worried. Pray for his safety.’
Corlas must have looked confused.
‘Corlas,’ said Fahren, ‘hopefully the shadow won’t mark Bel’s passing. There’s no reason for anyone to think he is anything but another blade of the Halls. On top of that …well, if we don’t give him some freedom soon, I fear he will shake us off. I don’t want that. I’ve spent many years wondering how to shape Bel’s destiny, but I have never found an answer. Perhaps he must be allowed to choose his own path. Certainly he must learn to fend for himself.’ Fahren sighed. ‘I don’t like it, believe me.’
‘Me neither,’ Corlas said, then shot Fahren a gruff smile. ‘But I think I like you more, High Mage.’
Bel ate with gusto, for after last night his appetite seemed without end. Never had he had such an experience, shared such a deep connection with someone …it hadn’t seemed to matter that they’d known each other only hours. When they had touched, it was more than touch – it was like the very blood under his skin was drawn to her. What explanation was there? He did not care. He could barely wait to see her again in two nights’ time.
‘Bel? Bel!’
Bel stopped slicing his steak to find Corlas watching him ruefully. ‘What?’
‘That’s a merry glint in your eye this morning,’ Corlas observed, making it sound like a question.
‘Hmm?’ said Bel. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘And a wide grin on your face while you stare at something only you can see.’
Bel arched an eyebrow. ‘A gentleman,’ he said, ‘does not kiss and tell.’
‘Very well,’ chuckled Corlas. ‘But I need the gentleman to break his reverie a moment.’ His expression grew more serious. ‘They wanted me to be the one to tell you. You are being assigned to a troop.’
Bel stopped mid-slice. ‘What?’
‘You heard me.’
Bel put down his fork. ‘Do they ever pull people out of the keepers early?’
‘No. Not unless there is a great war.’
‘So why me?’
Corlas finished chewing a chunk of meat, then wiped the juice from his beard. ‘I won’t bandy words,’ he said. ‘The Throne is grooming you for a military career. He thinks it might be part of this destiny of yours, and wants to test you. You are to be sent out on your first real assignment.’
Excitement shone in Bel’s eyes. ‘What is it?’
Corlas remembered his own enthusiasm for his first assignment, and chuckled. ‘Huggers,’ he said, ‘coming out of Drel Forest. An unusually large infestation. The soldiers of Drel have asked for help, so the Throne is sending a hunting party.’
‘And I’m to go with them?’
‘Aye.’
This clearly appealed to Bel. ‘When?’
‘Soon. Within a couple of days.’
‘Which troop?’
‘Under Munpo.’
‘Are you going?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’ said Bel. ‘Don’t you miss it?’
Corlas smiled.
‘So why don’t you come? Doesn’t some time away slaying monsters sound like just the holiday you need?’
Corlas stared at his hands splayed on the mess hall table. The truth was, he was very aware of how long he’d been trapped behind the wards. For a moment he allowed himself to be swept along by Bel’s enthusiasm …then he remembered blood-drop eyes watching from amongst leaves.
‘I cannot,’ he said.
‘But the Throne respects you. He’d let you go if you asked.’
‘No. Do not try to convince me.’
‘But –’
‘No!’ said Corlas angrily, startling Bel mid-chew. For a moment his shoulders rose and fell, but he mastered himself. Leaning back with a sigh, he met his son’s worried eyes.