During the day, the only breaks he had from Michael were those hours in which the prince was forced to spend in study, during which time Aedan had to be with his own tutor. At night, however, his time was more or less his own, and he was anxious for some stimulation in the company of people his own age. He had found that in the Green Basilisk.
The tavern was little more than a hole in the wall in the artists’ quarter, a square room with a bar in the back and no windows in the walls, which made the atmosphere inside quite dark and stuffy. The Green Basilisk catered mostly to a younger crowd, a mix of artists and bards, craftsmen, students, and the more adventuresome children of the noble class and merchant guilds, who saw themselves as daring nonconformists. They all dressed down when they came to the Green Basilisk, in plain tunics, demicloaks and breeches of dark gray or black, though Aedan noted that the material and cut of the clothing worn by the children of aristocrats was markedly superior to those of all the others. During his first visit, shortly after he had turned eighteen, he had been attracted by a girl seated with a group at one of the tables and had wandered over to join their discussion.
The young nobles among them had naturally recognized him, for his father was prominent at court, and a few of them he knew, although not very well. They introduced him to the others, whom he had never met before. The girl who caught his eye was Caitlin, the pretty blonde daughter of a farrier. Aedan was very much attracted to her, though he knew a serious relationship would have been out of the question. As a tradesman’s daughter, she was of the peasant class and not descended from a bloodline. A serious liaison between them would have been frowned upon, as any offspring such a relationship might produce would dilute the powers of the bloodline. Nevertheless, Aedan had started frequenting the tavern and often met there with the others for long discussions over ale, bread, and cheese, late into the night.
Initially, Caitlin was the main attraction, but Aedan soon discovered she was interested in another member of the group, a young bard named Vaesil, who was the chief exponent of the Fatalist philosophy. For a short while, Aedan allowed himself to nurse the hope that Caitlin might eventually come to prefer him, but he soon realized that he could not compete, either with Vaesil’s handsome looks or his sharp wit and musical talents. The two of them always sat together, and Caitlin hung worshipfully on Vaesil’s every word.
With a wistful resignation, Aedan had eventually accepted that Caitlin saw him as no more than a casual acquaintance, merely one of the crowd, and he began to entertain the thoughts of other possibilities. Caitlin was not the only pretty girl who came to the Green Basilisk, and the Fatalists always attracted a good deal of attention. For the young aristocrats, the Green Basilisk was a place they could go slumming, mingling with the lower classes and getting a taste of common decadence. For the others, the tavern was a stimulating gathering place for freethinkers and rebels, albeit the rebellion was mostly in the form of dress and conversation. Young women went there to meet interesting young men, hopefully someone from a well-off merchant family or, better yet, a blooded noble, and young men, whether of the aristocratic class or not, went there to meet young women.
For the blooded young aristocrats, it was fairly easy pickings, for there was no shortage of young women from the common classes who nursed the dream of marrying a nobleman. Most of them, however, were doomed to disappointment. Though it occasionally happened that a blooded aristocrat took an unblooded commoner to wife, weakening the bloodline was the sort of thing that could get a man disowned. Most of the young men of the Anuirean aristocratic class had their marriages arranged for them by their families, often at a very early age.
Still, that did not stop many of them from dallying with young girls from the lower classes, most of whom were more than eager to accommodate them. They knew that even if such a liaison did not lead to a marriage, if a child resulted, the child would be blooded and would, in time, possess the blood abilities, albeit diluted, of the father. Because of this very fact, many aristocratic fathers lectured their sons sternly on how to conduct such casual affairs, stressing the importance of breaking off the act of love-making at the crucial moment so that a pregnancy would not result. However, this was not always successful, and on those occasions when blooded bastards did result, they were often taken into the service of the father’s family and, on rare occasions, even recognized. Consequently, there were many female commoners who went to great lengths to entice a blooded young aristocrat.
For Aedan, however, it had never been as easy as it was for the others. While he had made many new acquaintances, he had not really found any close friends. Part of this was due to his natural reticence in conversation. He could not hold court the way Vaesil did, and had always felt awkward around girls, especially attractive ones. Aside from that, he was Lord Tieran’s son, and while most girls had no reservations about flirting with young viscounts or baronets, they always took a different attitude when they found out who Aedan was. Even with the other young nobles, Aedan was always aware of a certain forced deference in their manner.
It took a while before he realized the reason for it. As the future royal chamberlain and the young prince’s friend and confidant, he was practically a member of the royal family as far as they were concerned. No one ever took issue with him over anything, except perhaps only in the mildest way, and he soon understood it was because of who he was and his position. He could never be sure if they would tell him what they really thought. Still, he didn’t mind that so much. He had enjoyed the company of the group and found their discussions very stimulating. He felt a certain daring recklessness in associating with them.
Now, just a few months later, it struck him he had not previously even had the barest inkling of what true recklessness could be. Laera had certainly taught him that. He doubted he would ever again feel quite so intimidated by a pretty face or shapely waist. And the recklessness he had displayed in going after Michael had been unforgivable. Ordinarily, they went out hawking with a party of armed men from the house guard, even when they stayed relatively close to Seaharrow. Not only had he neglected to assemble such a party, which was what he should have been doing instead of rolling in the hay with Laera, but he had allowed the impatient prince to go off on his own and then compounded his offense by going after him alone, forgetting his sword in the stables. Not that it would have done him a great deal of good, he realized. Still, if he had immediately assembled an armed party and then gone after Michael, there was a chance that none of this might have happened.
Had he simply been so distracted by what occurred with Laera that he wasn’t thinking, or was he too concerned about the questions that would have been raised, such as why he had allowed the prince to ride off by himself in the first place, and what had he been doing? Either way, he had acted stupidly, and even the risks involved in his affair with Laera seemed like nothing now compared to what they had gone through. And there was still no way of knowing how it would turn out.
Although Gylvain and his elves had rescued them from the goblins and did not seem to mean them harm, now they were going to Tuarhievel, in the northernmost section of the Aelvinnwode, even farther from Seaharrow than Thurazor. And though Gylvain seemed favorably disposed toward them, once they reached Tuarhievel, it would be Fhileraene who would decide what to do with them.
If Haelyn had truly ascended and become a god at Deismaar, Aedan hoped he was watching over them. But if the Fatalists were right, he and Michael were completely on their own. However, as the saying went, there were no atheists in a melee, and while the goblins had them, Aedan had discovered that when his own life was at stake, he could become as devout as the Patriarch, himself. In the comfortable safety of a tavern, it was one thing to question faith and argue the virtues of self-reliance. In the Aelvinnwode, it was another thing entirely, and now Aedan found himself fervently hoping he could rely on a greater power than himself.