Eyes of Mist

8 - Interlude I: Rivals

Shakar grinned broadly as he put down the chess piece. "Checkmate, Cayoun."
His opponent leaned back with a nonchalant smile and brushed a slender white hand through his raven hair. "Your Highness has been training, haven't you?"
The prince only smiled. "Indulge me this time. It's a rare enough occasion."
"I told you more than once that you would be more successful if you just dared to risk a bit more. You have scruples to sacrifice one of your pawns but that's what the game's tactic needs you to do."
Shakar's blue eyes gave an inkling of his embarrassment. "I always feel like a traitor when I do something like that. They belong to me and should be as precious as my knight, the queen, my king."
Cayoun sighed and rose from the table. "Did you meet your brother yet?" he asked, changing the subject. "As far as I know he came back from his tour around the kingdom today."
Shakar made a face. "I preferred waiting until Shakar has notified the entire court of his latest heroics before I dare enter his sight."
"Then you should look for a good hiding place till next year," Cayoun suggested, the amusement clear in his voice.
Shakar managed a crooked smile. He knew he should rather set his servant straight for his insolence toward the crown prince but, as he silently agreed, he just couldn't bring himself to do so. Besides, Cayoun was far more than his valet. He was an adviser and his best friend, serving him for more than ten years. Cayoun had been but a boy of sixteen, merely four years his elder, when he entered Shakar's service, and he had served him faithfully throughout the years all the way to this day.
Lost in his thoughts his fingers idly played with a strand of blond hair. He tried to redeem his twin somewhat. "Well, it's just his way. He likes to be in the center of attention and as the future king it's a good thing he's getting used to that as early as possible."
Cayoun's gray eyes stayed unreadable. "Would you call that the most important quality in a king?" he remarked coolly.
Now the prince's lips tightened after all. Usually Cayoun did quite well in hiding his aversion towards Falam but from time to time he got dangerously close to showing contempt.
Ever sensitive for his moods, Cayoun immediately lowered his head and excused himself with a humble bow.
Shakar suppressed a sigh and forced himself to smile as he dismissed Cayoun for now. He'd see him again during the evening's banquet and maybe by then he'd have a better answer for his servants last question.
Near the same moment as the door closed behind Cayoun the castle's courtyard resounded with such noise that Shakar didn't have to look to know that Falam had appeared on stage. Still he approached the narrow window, feeling the cold breeze on his face as he looked down. Surrounded by at least a dozen courtlings the crown prince was busy complaining about the stallion that he was supposed to ride today that apparently wasn't sufficient for his needs. He finally chose a black palfrey that was hastily readied for him.
The mass moved towards the castle gates and Shakar looked after the blond shock of hair, shimmering over a magnificent blue jacket until all the toadies had crowded so much around his brother that he couldn't see him anymore. He wondered if Falam really liked their company, or perhaps it was all a farce. Sometimes he admired his twin for enduring his underlings. Didn't at least that qualify him to be king?

****

"From Arquan we rode on along the coast and stopped again shortly after that because Saskuen was already tired. I could hardly believe it when he suggested asking the fishermen for shelter. Can you imagine that? Me in a stinking fishing hut? Well, I made it rather clear to him that this was beyond question impossible. He then managed to get to Vyrla, where I showed the lads that nothing can surpass noble blood. I hunted down a gran on my own! These pitiful fishermen don't dare go after them alone but if you know what you're doing those folk can hardly compare."
Candles sparkled over the long table and added to the rather sparse light from the torches set into the walls of the grand hall. They created just the atmosphere Falam had been waiting for. His eyes shone with enthusiasm as he told of his journeys.
King Arnthio tried to give his son all due attention yet often he seemed to be far away in his thoughts. Next to him Queen Lalay eagerly took in every word that came over Falam's lips and watched him with unveiled pride. Shakar stared down at his plate with clenched teeth and swallowed down all comments before he could ever decide to utter something. His eyes wandered to old Saskuen, who was waiting on Falam and he tried comforting the graying man with an encouraging smile when his older brother started complaining about his counselor's limits again. Saskuen didn't see him.
A familiar face framed by black hair blocked his sight. The prince nodded at Cayoun and the latter answered with a smile. "Will Your Highness still need me tonight?"
Shakar resisted the urge to grimace. "Did I get that right? You want to excuse yourself and I have to hold out here?"
"Didn't you say yourself that a good ruler has to serve his people in all things even it means suffering?"
"Get lost! But stay near your quarters in case I need a bit of cheering up later."
Cayoun's grin widened. He stepped back from the table without a sound and gazed at Saskuen triumphantly then he disappeared into the shadows near the door.
"But during the banquet they had given in my honor the men of Vyrla finally managed to make my trip worthwhile," Falam went on. "Well, having someone of my importance as a guest is probably rare enough for them." The Crown Prince leaned back before continuing to make sure he had everyone's full attention. His eyes rested on his younger twin. "Do I bore you, Shakar?"
The second born prince flinched as he was caught. "Forgive me, my thoughts must have been on something else."
"Being? If I may ask, of course?"
Shakar's thoughts raced. "I was thinking," he started tentatively "about the message father received from the Mencun shortly after you had left."
That had been the first thing that came to his mind and so he was rather surprised when King Arnthio suddenly straightened up and joined in. "Good that you come to speak of it. I wanted to talk about that with the two of you anyway."
Falam looked decidedly bored but had enough tact not to groan. "The Mencun? These cave-people? What do they want?"
Arnthio strained a smile. "It is all about frontier difficulties. Actually it's not that big of an affair. But I thought it best if you knew about it. During this year's springtime several families have begun settling on the mountain pastures to the west. The Mencun threatened to give them a hard time should they choose to stay. Nevertheless the Mencun don't actually use the pastures, nor the woods or quarries. All they want is to protect their caves from curious eyes. That's why I want to send one of you to tell the Mencun of our peaceful intentions and grant them a contract stating that none shall ever come near their caves."
Now Falam groaned. "Father, I just came back."
"For that reason I was about to send Shakar. The facts are clear so he can decide on the details as the Royal Family's emissary. Nevertheless I didn't want to send him without your knowledge, Falam."
Shakar leaned forward. He opened his mouth and then closed it again.
Falam smiled at his twin. "Well, I don't mind Shakar having a bit of action for a change."
Shakar wanted to give something back but Falam waved him off. "Don't be mad, Shakar, this will be best for both of us. This contract business will suit your talents better than mine. Besides I would feel better if you have a bit of experience since you will be my emissary one day." He rested his chin on one hand and gave him a conciliatory smile.
Shakar sighed but then he nodded and returned the smile.
Falam clapped his hands. "And another problem solved. With so many happy endings I will sleep especially well tonight."
The Crown Prince rose and slightly bowed in front of King Arnthio. "If you would excuse me, father?"
Queen Lalay held out her hand to him, allowed him to help her to her feet and let her son escort her out of the dining hall, while Saskuen also bid his leave.
Shakar was still shaking his head and smiling as he rose to follow his brother. His father's hand on his arm made him pause. "Wait a moment" the king said quietly.
The younger prince sank back to his chair and regarded Arnthio gravely. "It isn't that easy, is it?"
The king sat back staring at the table's dark wood. "The situation is more than tense," he began when they were alone. "Keratil, ruler of the Mencun is not overly open for compromises. His people are, more than anything else, bent on keeping their secrets. We don't know what they are so secretive about or if it could be a danger for us, but open or hidden attempts to find out could easily result in war. On the other side the settlers have joined together and won't give up their presumed right to use the mountain regions."
Shakar bit his lower lip. For a moment both father and son were silent then the young prince whispered: "Why are you sending me?"
Arnthio sighed. "Falam is a good man in his own way but he has neither your patience nor your consideration. The throne belongs to him by his birth right but one day the heavy responsibility to guide him will be on your shoulders. He needs you, Shakar, more than he knows or would ever admit. One day you will be the power behind the throne."
"You want me to manipulate him," Shakar replied bitterly. It was no question.
"Sometimes a king has to make concessions for the sake of his people."
In the silence every sound was unnaturally loud. The chair scraped over the stony ground, but when Shakar finally spoke up his voice sounded hardly better. "When should I leave?"
"As soon as possible. Tomorrow if you can." In reply to his son's nod the king continued: "I will see that everything is prepared." He stood up and placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. "You won't disappoint me. You never did."
Shakar evaded his gaze. Then he fled from the hall.

****

Cayoun couldn't help but smile when Arris finished her report of the king's word to his second born prince. He had waited so long for a chance like this.
Arris looked at him puzzled. In response he put his hands on the maidservant's shoulders and leaned close to whisper in her ear: “Your revenge is drawing near.”
When he raised his head again, he saw Arris' face light up. With a hint of regret he realized that he couldn't remember ever seeing her as happy as this and tried not to think about what she must have been through to hate the royal family this much.
To his surprise, she wrapped her arms around him in a sudden surge of emotion and buried her face in his chest. “You have my gratitude, Cayoun,” she whispered hoarsely. “For everything.”
He stroked her hair, although he was careful not to show too much affection. Yes, he liked Arris, but she was far from what he considered a good match. Not that she was terribly ugly but neither could she be called beautiful. Her dark eyes were set a bit too far apart, her nose was a bit too long and her lips too narrow to be really tasted.
And yet that was part of her great talent. She could easily go unnoticed. Her looks made no man turn his head and no women see her as a rival. She was just there, often silent and immersed in her work. Hidden in the shadows where she took in everything she heard and kept it in her memory.
Cayoun always had an eye for hidden skills and never regretted getting Arris out of the gutter and giving her work. But he'd never take her to his bed.
After a moment she let go of him and looked down in embarrassment. Content that she knew her place he raised her head by the chin until she looked him in the eyes. “What would I do without you, my clever shadow? I never would have reached the crown prince's ears as easily.”
The blush that touched her cheeks showed him clearly enough that she was his.
“You will accompany him, won't you?” she breathed. “The prince, I mean.”
Cayoun sighed. “It seems I have to. He was rather drained when he rushed by after the banquet and left me in front of his door. But at least he managed to tell me to prepare for a journey.” He lifted one corner of his mouth in a crooked smile. “In the end this will play out to our advantage as well. You can fend for yourself for a while and I won't be idle either. But before we set out, the crown prince should learn about his brother's impending betrayal, don't you think?”
All joy had fled from her face leaving a serious and dark look in her eyes. “Falam deeply mistrusts him but he'll never make a move against Shakar without a good reason,” she mused. “His father wouldn't allow that.”
“I'll give him a reason,” Cayoun answered nonchalantly. “They feel hostile enough towards each other and it won't take much more to set them at each other's throats.”
Arris' jaws clenched, as did her fists. “And so the false kings brood will wipe out each other. I only wish there was a way to show them in their last moments who caused their destruction.”
“You will have your satisfaction, Arris. Do not risk your revenge for such trifles.”
She nodded reluctantly. “I won't. I have been waiting too long.”
“Then go now and share your concerns about the 'second born prince's foul plans' with that fool Saskuen. That way Falam is bound to hear about it.” Cayoun grinned. “I'll do my best to send word to you soon. And now I best get packing.”

****

The sun shone brightly from a cloudless sky when the travel companions departed the next morning. The slightly chilly morning breeze caressed the horse's legs with the promise of such a wonderful day that the beasts had to be constantly held back to keep them from carrying the riders off.
Lost in thought, Shakar stared at his horse's croup and chewed on his lower lip. He knew Cayoun was riding close behind him but he just didn't manage a conversation.
They had already left both the castle and the three lakes that surrounded it far behind when suddenly a gentle voice touched his ear. He looked up in surprise and saw that Cayoun had pulled out a lute and was now striking up a joyful song. One by one the soldiers of their escort joined in. Shakar laughed in spite of himself and joined in the not too melodic but cheerfully loud chorus, too.
When the song ended he nudged his horse closer to Cayoun's and grinned. "How come you always try to distract me when I have so much thinking to do."
His servant blinked innocently. "Since you decided not to let me know just what's going on, how was I supposed to be aware that my little song could distract your sorrow-filled heart?"
Shakar smiled to himself. "You are such a scoundrel, Cayoun. Don't act as if you didn't know me well enough to realize how I was feeling."
Cayoun simply smiled.
Shakar smacked his shoulder and somewhat gloated when the thin, young man flinched. "It's good that you're here." With that he let the horse carry him back to his position behind the vanguard but the relaxed smile stayed on his lips.
He didn't look back to Cayoun and so he missed the look the other gave him. A look of regret and hope, doubt and determination. Then Cayoun's pleasant voice once more joined in to the rhythm of stamping hooves, singing of long lost times, of fallen heroes and grand dreams. Shakar knew the song well. Cayoun had often sung it when the two of them had still been of an age when would sneak out of castle Triannar and sit on the cliffs of the southern lake Maran. As his hands tightened around the reins that seemed to him like a different life.

****

The rest of the journey went on without any greater incidents. They rode without haste on the merchant highways spreading from Triannar like a wheel's spokes. At irregular intervals they found inns and smaller and larger towns along the roadway. Still they had enough of provisions to be comfortable if they had to rest out in the open for a change. The weather stayed fine throughout the following days and when the group finally saw first signs of mountains in the distance they were all in high spirits, expecting to reach their goal within the next two days.
The rugged countryside slowed down their horses more than expected though, delaying the arrival to the afternoon three days later when the little troupe rode into Landis, the biggest of the mountain settlements. While Shakar and Cayoun got a quarter in an emptied house where they rid themselves of the journey's filth and clad in fresh clothes, the soldiers set up camp outside and organized watches for their prince.
Shakar seemed very tired, yet he chose to show up at the banquet given in the evening. Even though it wasn't as opulent as he was used to he still appreciated the effort the settlers had made. Cayoun accompanied him but stayed in the background until the settler's leader greeted the prince with all due respect. The two sat down at a table on the far end of the room before the actual banquet was opened and talked softly. Cayoun was trying to come up with a good reason to close in and listen without attracting too much attention and started regretting that he didn't bring Arris along when the door opened again and a young woman stepped into the room. Cayoun's eyes widened.
Her hair was living fire and her eyes glowed like jade. When she returned his gaze and smiled his heart beat wildly and he knew that she was perfect. Which made her just good enough for him. He gave her his most beautiful smile and stepped aside where he sat down at a table far enough away from Shakar.
With satisfaction he saw that she understood his wink and followed him. When she stepped up to him she spread her dress in a magnificent courtesy and lowered her eyes. "Your Highness," she greeted him.
Cayoun had enough self control to keep from flinching and remained smiling. "I'm afraid, I cannot serve you in that matter. His Highness has already taken seat over there," he explained smoothly. "My name is Cayoun. I am the personal servant of his Highness. Maybe I could introduce you to him later?"
She was still smiling but her eyes seemed to be colder now. "I am Jilla. My father, Kareg, is the leader of this settlement. As I see now he has already become acquainted with his Highness. So I think that I should not cause you any more trouble, Cayoun." With that she turned and walked through the guest room to her father.
Cayoun watched her go and leaned back somewhat disappointed. Then he smiled again. What kind of life could be complete without challenges? He thought about following her but suddenly loud voices and sounds of skirmish came from the outside. Again the door opened although this time the swing made the hinges creak dangerously.
In stepped a man with dark brown hair clad in robes that looked rather exotic for Cayoun's eyes and a sword at his side. Behind him stood a boy of about sixteen years who looked so similar that Cayoun guessed the two of them had to be related. The youth's eyes wandered through the room and found Cayoun's. The sudden silence made the moment seem like forever, then the man came closer and Shakar rose from his seat.
"I am Shakar, prince of Illian. Who am I honored to talk to?"
The man measured Shakar with a long glance then he said with a strange accent. "My name is Karatil. I am Regent of the Mencun, rightful ruler of the area you have invaded." He gestured towards the boy. "This is my son, prince Tamaril. We demand to know why you are here."