IV: Caedric

“Caed,” the voice was soft as silk. “Caed, it’s time to get up.” In his half-conscious state, he thought he could feel a hand on his cheek.

Yarina…not yet, I don’t want to leave you.

“Wake up, Caed.”

His eyes snapped open. The voice echoed in his ears and he reached for the sword. After a few moments of panic, Sir Caedric Kinkaid sat back against the tree trunk. The stars still shone in the sky with no signs of the sun just yet. I can’t have slept more than a couple of hours, he realised, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. ''Perhaps it is for the better. Only the gods know what lies in the woods at night.''

For almost all of the previous day, Caedric had ridden east, stopping only to let himself and the horse rest. But never for long. He didn’t dare let the news of the attack on the Prince’s caravan reach the King’s ears before he could tell him himself. He hadn’t bothered to stop at any villages or beg for any food. There wasn’t time for that. The heir to the throne was dead, and he had a job to do. The only food he could give to his horse, a tall black beauty with a good set of lungs, was the berries he managed to scrounge from nearby bushes as they rode. Some of them had been a gamble as to whether they would kill either one of them, but he had remembered enough of his sister’s teachings that neither he nor the horse were poisoned.

His back beginning to ache from laying on the hard dirt, Caedric slowly managed to get his armour back on. The chainmail was starting to feel a little too heavy and the plates were digging into his ribs now, but after what happened with the Prince’s caravan, he didn’t trust that the road would be any safer now he was on his own.

He strapped Forrin’s Gift back onto his hip and double-checked that the letter was where he left it—in one of the saddle-bags on the horse. They were soon back on the road, lit only by the stars above his head, and riding at full speed. After their rest and a bit of food and water, the horse seemed ready to get back to riding at as close to full speed as Caedric dared, fearing that the thing may drop dead from exhaustion if he pushed it too hard. I’m no use to anyone if I have to walk all the way to High-Mountain.

Gradually, the sky became lighter and the road was easier to see until eventually, the sun poked its head out in the west, casting long shadows in front of him. Caedric found himself checking over his shoulder as he rode. Though the rising sun blinded him whenever he looked, he felt he had to check now and then—the memory of those who attacked the caravan was all too fresh in his mind. ''What were they even after? Were they after anything at all, or did they just want blood?''

''“You’re a good man. Wish my sister a happy birthday for me.”''

He had closed his eyes for just a few moments, but the Prince’s voice brought him back to consciousness just as quick as he had lost it. ''I am not a good man, my Prince. If I was, it would have been you on this horse and me dead in the dirt.'' Caedric rubbed the sleep from his eyes and rode on for a while longer.

Late into the morning, his muscles screaming in pain and sores rubbing between his legs, High-Mountain finally came into view. The whole city seemed to lean against its namesake mountain, Mount Takai, though it wasn’t much of a mountain anymore; with the peak being sheared off in the Great Cataclysm, all that was left of its top was the flat plain a hundred marches above the Royal Keep, the highest point in the city. High-Mountain was barely a village by the ocean back then. The sight of the city seemed to release a weight from his back, but also remind him of the exhaustion in his bones. He breathed a sigh of relief, the muscles in his legs aching tremendously.

But as Caedric approached, the wind blew the sound of the bells his way. A cacophony of ringing that spread across the entire city. ''What does this mean? Has word already arrived?''

The western gate of the city was easy enough to pass through. People streamed in and out like sheep—only a few on horseback and only one riding a unicorn. As he passed, one of the guards gave Caedric an odd look—he was slouching in his saddle, after all, the lack of sleep finally getting to him—but they mostly paid him no mind. As he made his way up the slope of Mount Takai, taking a slower pace on his horse, the bells echoed around him so much that he could no longer tell where they were coming from—they almost made him dizzy and, if not for the constant reminder that was Forrin’s Gift swaying on his belt, he may have fallen from his saddle in exhaustion.

Parts of High-Mountain’s streets were so steep Caedric wondered how people lived there. The poorer areas consisted of houses made of tiny little boxes of worn, crumbling stone. They shouldn’t have been constructed as high as they were—the slope was so steep that they constantly looked close to tipping over onto the next building—yet they had to be built that way. There’s no more room for the poor in High-Mountain.

The Royal Keep was walled off from the rest of the city. It was made of the same white stone as the outer walls, the only difference being the difference in the number of guards atop it. At least a score of them watched over the Royal Keep’s gates alone. Their armour bore the split circle of house Din Trellis and their cloaks were dyed in their colours—red and black. When Caedric approached, he could see them tensing up. Their hands tightened around their spears or the scabbards at their sides.

“Halt!” someone called from atop the wall. He held a mailed hand up as Caedric got close. “What is your business here?” Slowly, he slid off the horse. His legs felt weak and sore as he grabbed the letter from the saddlebag and stumbled forwards.

“I have…I have a message for His Majesty the King,” he said. “It’s about his son, Prince Cormac. I must speak with him!” the man at the gate shifted uncomfortably for a moment.

“We cannot let just anyone in to see the King,” the man told him. “Nor can we just allow you into the Keep without invitation. Now, unless you would like us to give the King this message, I’d suggest you move along.”

“You don’t understand!” Caedric’s legs almost gave in, but something spurred him forwards. The guards tensed up even further and some even drew their swords. “My name is Sir Caedric Kinkaid. I’m a knight. I was with Prince Cormac’s caravan! I need to speak with the King now!” the other guards began exchanging looks with each other. The mere fact that he had a last name meant something to them; most of them would probably only have one name for the rest of their lives.

“Kinkaid? I know that name,” Caedric could see the man’s eyes narrow through the gaps in his helm. “You were stationed here a while back, weren’t you?”

Caedric nodded. “Yes. I was here for two years until I was sent to Cavernite with Prince Cormac.” I even had to leave Yarina behind. “Look, good sir. I have been riding for two days straight, now. This horse and I are in dire need of a wash and a rest, but I need to get this message to the King now. It’s of the highest urgency. I swear by all the gods, I won’t be much trouble.” The man paused for a few moments, thinking it over in his head. ''Please. Let me do this one last good deed.''

“Caed?” Suddenly, the gate door opened a little and out poked his little sister’s head.

“Terissa!” he cried. She had grown since he last saw her, so much so that he may have overlooked her completely had they seen each other in the street. When he left for Cavernite, Terissa had only just joined Princess Orsella’s maids. She was sixteen, then. She still kept her hair in her braid, but it had become so much longer. When she saw him, her face lit up and she ran past the guards, crashing into Caedric and nearly knocking the air from his lungs.

“Oh, Caed,” she laughed. She smelled nice, he noticed. Like mother. “You’re finally back…it’s been so long!” When she pulled away, he noticed the redness around her eyes and the shakiness of her voice.

“You’ve been crying,” he said. “Whatever’s the matter?” Terissa screwed her eyes up and shook her head. Then, she turned to the guards.

“Let him in, you dolts!” Reluctantly, the man nodded his head and the gates swung open fully. After being given permission, one of the guards took the horse and led it to the stables inside. Caedric and Terissa passed into a large courtyard where servants and the like ran about like chickens. An air of panic permeated the inside of the Royal Keep. Even a few minor lords hung about a set of doors looking nervous.

“Terissa, what is going on?” he asked, stopping her in the middle of the courtyard—she only reached up to his chin so he had to look down.

She wiped away at the new tears forming in her eyes. “It’s…It’s not common knowledge yet, but…it’s the King. He’s dead. He passed in his sleep last night.” Caedric’s legs finally gave up. He sat himself on the ground, exhausted, and ran his hand through his hair. I failed.

“Amatera…” Caedric choked. His throat tightened up, making it hard to speak. Even breathe.

“Caed,” she looked him in the eyes. “How far away is Prince Cormac? He must be told as soon as possible. Preparations must be made for his coronation. Oh, Princess Orsella must be in pieces.” Caedric’s head span. ''That’s right. I have a job to do. If I cannot get the message to the King, then the Queen will suffice.''

“I…I must tell her…”

“Caedric Kinkaid?” a voice called from behind Terissa. She spun around, revealing a bald man with thick shoulders and a stocky frame. He wore dark clothes that were tightly wound and held together with silver buttons. Something about the man seemed familiar. The way he held himself. Something taught to Caedric and all the other men that joined the army.

“Lord Van Harris,” Terissa gave a short curtsy, but the man kept his eyes on Caedric. Dorter Van Harris, he remembered. The King’s spymaster.

“You served under me once, if I recall correctly,” Dorter said, narrowing his eyes at him. Caedric nodded. “How is it you’re here? I thought you were accompanying Prince Cormac, but I see no-one.”

“That is why I am here!” Caedric undid the belt around his waist and held up the sword. Dorter and Terissa eyed the handle, the realisation slowly dawning on both their faces. “Our caravan was attacked in the night a couple of days ago. Prince Cormac…he…he fought bravely, but…he was struck down. He sent me here to return Forrin’s Gift to its rightful owner”—he produced the letter to Orsella, too—“and this, as well.”

“By Amatera,” Terissa’s voice quivered a little. “With the Prince dead, that means…”

“Long live Queen Orsella,” Dorter finished, his face still and unyielding as he looked at Forrin’s Gift. Something glinted in the man’s eyes. “She must know. As soon as possible.” Caedric nodded in agreement. Dorter looked around for a moment and grabbed a young man that was just about to pass them. He seemed startled by the sudden interruption from whatever he was doing, but upon realising it was Lord Van Harris doing the interrupting, he bowed.

“H-How may I help you, m’lords? Ma’am?” Terissa’s cheeks warmed a little at being named so highly.

“What’s your name, boy?” Dorter asked.

“Pinny, m’lord.”

“Pinny.” Caedric could almost hear the laughter in Dorter’s voice as he said the name. “I trust you know of the King’s passing?”—Pinny nodded—“This is Sir Caedric Kinkaid, from Prince Cormac’s caravan. He has told us that the Prince is dead, too. Now, Princess Orsella must know of this immediately. We need you to tell her.”—the boy’s face grew more and more horrified as Dorter spoke—“Take this sword and this letter, boy. The Princess must know as soon as possible, so run, Pinny.” As soon as he had taken Forrin’s Gift, Pinny was off, running through the Keep with as much energy as Caedric had a couple of days ago. Now, however, it was all gone.

“It’s done,” Caedric said, half to himself, half to his Prince.

“Come with me, Kinkaid,” Dorter instructed. “We have…much to discuss.” It took almost all of Caedric’s energy to follow the spymaster. After a few steps, however, the man stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Not you, my lady.” He hadn’t even noticed Terissa trailing next to him. She opened her mouth to argue, but Caedric knew better than to let her try to defy a Van.

“The Princess…no, the Queen will need you,” he told her. “She has lost her father and soon her brother. You’re more use there.” Terissa looked at him, blinking back tears, and hugged him tightly. ''I should have been the one that died. Cormac would be King now, if not for me.''

*

The room was small and dimly lit, a lone torch perched on one of the walls. Dorter had led him down a long series of hallways that, Caedric was sure, ran inside Mount Takai. Inside the room—which was barely large enough to hold a couple of horses—was a plain wooden table with a low chair on the side farthest from the door, and a higher one on the opposite side; Dorter directed him to the smaller one and left him there for a while.

What now? he asked himself as he sat alone. ''If I’m even allowed to stay a knight, will I just be posted to some village a thousand marches from here? From Terissa?''

''Will they send me home to Vaerill? To Yarina? Has she married yet?''

Stop it, you damned fool.

The door opened and Dorter returned, this time with another man. He was much younger than the spymaster, but he was taller and brought with him the unmistakable scent of dirt and wet leaves. His arms were thin as sticks and his face looked almost gaunt from malnutrition, but he had a healthy head of dark brown hair and his eyes glinted in the small amount of light coming from the torch on the wall. He wore dark brown robes that were wrapped loosely around his frame, but still managed to make him appear well-dressed.

“Good afternoon, Sir Caedric,” the man said. His voice was calm as he slid over and took the higher chair, forcing Caedric to look up at him. “My name is Cigam Van Pinth. I’m here to make sure that you haven’t lied to us today.” He reached into a pocket inside his sleeve and produced a small bag. He plopped it onto the table and began opening it. “I do hope you haven’t been lying to us, Sir Caedric.”

“I haven’t.”

“We’ll see,” Van Pinth dove his slender fingers into the bag and produced a handful of leaves. Some of them looked just like the leaves from the trees he had passed on his way to High-Mountain. Some had spots of colour on their tips. Some were completely misshapen and had not a shade of green on them. One by one, he put them into his mouth and chewed slowly.

“You’re a sorcerer,” Caedric realised. Cigam smiled a little.

“Not bad, Sir Caedric,” he said, plopping another leaf into his mouth. “That doesn’t make you nervous, does it?” It did. He had heard stories about sorcerers. About how dangerous they could be. If Van Pinth wished it, he could probably turn Caedric into a pile of ash before he could even think about fighting back.

“What are you going to do?” he said, trying his best not to look as anxious as he was.

Cigam shrugged, strung his bag back together, and slid it back up his sleeve. “I’m going to probe your mind. Make sure what you said happened, actually happened.” Caedric shivered as an icy feeling flowed down his spine.

“Don’t worry, Kinkaid,” Dorter said. He was almost hidden in the corner, arms crossed. “It…shouldn’t hurt.” Cigam held his hands out towards him.

“I need skin-to-skin contact, Sir Caedric,” he glanced at his gloves. “If you would…” If I refuse, they won’t believe me. Sighing, Caedric gave in, pulling off his gloves. Cigam’s palms were cold as ice as they connected. The feeling seemed to spread up Caedric’s arms. “Are you ready?” Cigam asked finally. Caedric gulped and nodded, his heart pounding. Sorcery…Rota save me.

Suddenly, something in Caedric’s head tightened as if some invisible hand were squeezing his skull. He could hear the blood flowing in his ears. He could feel the invisible hand of Cigam’s sorcery prodding his brain.

Images flashed before him. A young babe being cradled in his mother’s arms—Terissa. A wooden sword much too big for his hands. A woman, beautiful and smiling, lying beside him in bed. Yarina…Another sword, this one made of steel, saving his lord with a few swings. The bed again. But this time, Yarina wasn’t smiling.

“Don’t go, Caed.”

“No!” Caedric tried to force Cigam out of his head. The images hurt too much. “Stop this!”

“I cannot just pick and choose a moment!” a reply came from somewhere beyond him. “Just a few moments longer!”

He was standing guard at the western gates of High-Mountain. Then, he was saying goodbye to Terissa, her eyes were wet with tears and she hugged him tight. Cavernite, so large and so beautiful at night. The caves of the university, so confusing as he stood guard over his Prince.

“My sister will no doubt give me a thorough talking to upon my return, but nonetheless, she will forgive me soon enough.”

“It was that night!” he yelled through the visions. “That’s when—”

“I won’t be able to call myself king if I don’t fight for my people!”

Cormac fighting. Forrin’s Gift shining in the light of the fires all around them. He saved the boy but was cut on his leg. They tried to escape. There were more of them. So many more…

“That is an order, Sir Caedric! I’ll not have you or anyone else die for my sake. ''Go. You’re a good man. Wish my sister a happy birthday for me.”''

He ran, but not before looking back. Cormac Din Trellis had a spear through his heart, and his killers had their hands raised towards the sky. Caedric rode. Rode as fast as he could.

As quick as the visions came, they were gone again and he was back in the room. His head felt like it was like to split open. Even Cigam looked in pain—for a moment, at least.

“Is it true?” Dorter leaned forward and the sorcerer nodded slowly, looking at Caedric.

“You left him,” he said finally. “He was the future King of the Empire and you left him to die.” Caedric didn’t speak. All he could do was nod. Dorter looked at him, his face as still as ever.

“Is that so?” the spymaster said, leaning back into the shadows. “How scandalous.” Caedric dropped his head in shame. “You’re going to be ruined for this, Kinkaid. Ruined.”

Trivia

 * First appearance of Cigam Van Pinth
 * First POV chapter for Caedric Kinkaid
 * First mention of Yarina
 * First mention of Vaerill
 * First mention of Sorcery
 * Also, it is the first use of leaves in the accumulation of energy.
 * This chapter takes place before, during, and after Chapter 3