Averan didn’t wish to change back, but even he could not disguise his desire to know just what was happening.
In front of him and Sandorn stood Lord Dranar of House Dronian.
A man they thought dead. One who was supposed to have fell alongside his Father. Beside him were two men, each a few years older than Averan and two females, a woman who looked about forty and a girl about half that.
“Lord Dranar.” Sandorn announced, “I take it that this is your family then.”
“It is,” Dranar confirmed.
“Let us head up to the Battlements. Me and my Brother have much to discuss with you. Your family will be shown inside.”
“My daughter comes with me.”
Dranar pointed to a girl standing beside him. Averan guessed she was the same age as he and Sandorn from the look of her. He had to admit, the girl was gorgeous. She was tall, athletic looking. Her long black hair was tied up in a slightly old fashion but it highlighted the fine features of her elegant face. She was pale and her lips were painted a deep purple, matching with the colors all about her. Averan took his eyes off her reluctantly.
Sandron didn’t seem fazed, however, instead, he shrugged and gestured over some guards to take the others inside.
“Very well. Let us go above then.”
Fenadorn led the way up. Averan’s mind raced with memories as he followed him, of days spent with Lord Dranar’s family out at sea. It had always been out at sea when the families met. He remembered Dranar visiting them sometimes at their homes in the lower Quarters, but on such occasions, he always came alone.
He supposed the daughter must be the same one he and Sandorn had once played on board with.
They sat down opposite each other, in complete silence.
He had changed a lot. His House, Dronian, had once been one of the Circlet, or at least on the verge of it. A powerful force both politically and militarily. Averan knew why his House was now in the position it was in, even if it was not a fact spoken publicly. Dranar had once been the most trusted friend and confidant of their Father. His man on the inside. It was generally well known that he had been a vital element of a failed scheme to return the Kings. Father’s scheme. He and his Father had once been close friends. Fenadorn once told him and Sandorn of how their Father and Dranar had spent a summer travelling the Border lands together. Before Mother, before both felt the pain of the World around them. Dranar’s House had suffered much for that friendship. His House now a shell of its former glory, his once lofty position a distant memory.
He was the same age as his Father would have been, forty two, but he looked at least ten years older. Despite the wrinkles on his face he did have the wide shoulders and frame of a warrior, and when he stood across from them Averan saw that the man was almost of a height with him. He probably would have been at least that twenty years ago. He had always seemed giant to Sandorn and Averan on the few times he had visited them as kids.
His bow was curt, formal and without warmth.
“Sons of Drevan. The Twins.” A slight smile broke out on the man’s lips, “You have grown. Considerably.”
“We have,” answered Sandorn. “Are you surprised by it? It has been over 13 years since we saw you last.”
Dranar nodded, “Yes, a long time. Things were better then. Hunted yes, but not with such vigor. I used visit your Father often, I was there for your birth and Princely Baptisms. I watched you grow.”
“Once you might have. Though after our Father died you never watched us again. Tell me, when he died where were you? Do you know how he suffered?”
“He was not the only one who suffered. Believe me Sandorn.” Dranar sighed, “We were young, brash. We had no true plan, reliant on too many variables. Both of us erred. I can neither forget nor forgive myself for that fact. But I can go some ways to redeem it. Learn from the mistakes we made and you will succeed. I lost everything when your Father died.”
“Not your life.” Averan replied.
“No, not that.” Dranar agreed, “But a great deal more. I brought my House from the highest points of Gorias’s Families to the lowest. Your Father died a tragic Hero. I live mine a failure. One doomed to History as the Lord who oversaw the greatest collapse and fall of any House of the Forty. I may not have died with your Father, but it might have been better I had.”
A silence fell over them then.
“It’s been a long time Fenadorn. You’ve gotten old my friend.” Dranar spoke to break the awkward silence turning all his attention onto their old protector.
Fenadorn nodded, “I have, as have you. A lot has changed since we last met. A lot. I would have thought to have heard from you. From you of all people. I heard nothing. You were presumed dead.”
Dranar smiled sadly, “I imagine you would have thought as such. It would have been better I had died. But there was a great deal that I had to deal with also. A great deal. Many people suffered for our folly.”
“Is that what you call my Father’s plans?” Averan retorted, “Folly?”
“Yes.” Dranar stated. “It is precisely what I call it for it is precisely what it was. Folly.”
“You dare dishonor our Father’s name-”
“I dishonor nothing. I knew your Father better than anyone.”
“You weren’t there at the end.” Sandorn spoke quietly.
“No. I wasn’t. While he was cornered at one end of Gorias I was cornered at the other.”
“And yet they killed him. But not you?” Averan questioned.
“Not me. I was a Lord of a proud House after all, one of the few who had maintained their position even after the kings had been removed. And I was young. They thought it enough to throw me in a cell to contemplate on my traitorous nature, and so I remained for four years. I was not seen or heard of, a ghostly remnant. Meanwhile my Family was left a member of the Forty in name only, its wealth taken and its power removed. All because of me.”
“You know most people would say thank you.” The girl broke in, anger clearly etched on her skin, “Perhaps even an apology. For what my Father lost because of his friendship with your father. It is not all about you.”
“What?” Averan snorted, “You think what you went through was anything like what me and my Brother suffered. While you remained in the High city, with an army of servants and Household guards to serve your every need. Truly we are in your debt.”
Averan gave a low mocking bow of his head.
“Careful boy.” Dranar growled. “We are not here to be mocked.”
“Do not call me Boy, and you don’t get to make commands, you can’t show up here demanding respect, that is not how respect works in the lower city.”
“Then we should have let the New Order kill you back at the Gate then is that it?” The daughter got to her feet. “We won’t suffer your insolence.”
“My daughter speaks true, what respect we show you we ask you show us in return. Let that be known before we speak any further.”
“What’s your name?” Sandorn broke in.
“Alisha is my name. Alisha of House Dronian. Daughter to-”
“Sit down Alisha.”
Dranar stood up alongside her and drew his sword.
“Have a care how you speak to her King Sandorn.”
Averan was on his feet immediately with his own axe out.
“You made a mistake coming here.”
“Sit down Averan.” Sandorn placed a hand on his brother’s elbow.
“And you Lord Dranar be seated, a man of your age should know better. We are thankful that you risked your life to save us back at the Gates, and for your Family who chose to return with us then back to their home. My Brother does not care much for titles or eloquence, but perhaps he was a little rash. Though can you blame him? You can not be shocked that there are questions hanging over you, surely.”
“Questions are fine,” Dranar said sitting back down. “Ask what you will, but I am no beggar. I came here to offer you aid, but that does not mean I am your slave, ready to heed your every command.”
“No one is saying that you are.” Sandorn picked up a beaker of wine to pour out drinks.
“Perhaps I did speak rashly,” Averan admitted, “I meant no true offence.”
“Nor did I,” added Alisha a little sheepishly, “and I apologise if I did so. I just did not want my Father made feel further guilt for something he already feels strongly on.”
“I can understand that,” Averan sighed.
“Why now?” Sandorn asked. “You did not think to reach out to us before?”
“You think I did not want to? Ever since your father and I had our failed coup I have been the most watched man in all of Gorias. My every move observed, I’ve been shunned, most unwilling to even be seen with me. You think I could have strolled into the underground for a meeting. To offer up my services and help to the twin sons of Drevan? My best friend, the man I trusted and fought for, killed for. There was never a moment I could act. Not until today.”
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Averan drank deeply, Dranar made a good point. Had he visited them it may have led to their discovery far earlier, it might likely have put them in more danger. Still, he could have tried. Should have.
“It is not that I did not wish to, I was always a willing accomplice to your Father. What loyalty I had to him now passes unto you. And if I am honest, when I look back now I am glad I have waited to so openly display my allegiance to your cause. You are already far better prepared then we were. We were foolish, putting too much faith in ourselves and not enough time thinking about how we could gain the support of the other Houses.”
Dranar tugged at the tight beard on his chin, “Back then the wounds of the last Kings were still fresh. Had your Father been more patient…..but it is done now. Over with, and we have a chance to rectify everything that was done and lost. If I did not believe that I would not be here.”
“They won’t hurt your family?” Sandorn asked.
Dranar laughed bitterly, “Oh they would, gladly. But I learned from my mistakes. It was well known that you and your Brother were to be killed if you did not accept the generous offer given to you. I knew no sons of Drevan would bow to such demands. So I made my plans. My family is already out to sea, safely on board a galley to Aishfeall. There they will remain until we are victorious. I have remained along with my daughter, my sister and her two boys.”
Averan nodded appreciatively at the mention of victorious.
“I like your confidence Lord Dranar. Though as of now, even with the five Chimeras your family has added we are still quite a distance from tearing down the rule of the New Way.”
“The Chimeras are needed. But they won’t be the key in this War of yours. The Forty don’t want to have to kill the main core of the city’s army, the retraining and loss of expertise and experience is deemed too costly for what they see as a minor disturbance.”
Averan bristled a little at minor disturbance, if that was all the Forty saw them as then they were sorely mistaken, he’d ensure they were made to pay for their hubris.
“What then in your belief is the key?” Sandorn said.
Dranar picked up a cup from the table and swirled it in his hands, “Numbers. You’ll need as many or at least a third of the Houses to come to your cause.”
“And I presume you can help us with that?” Sandorn raised his brows, “Is that why you are here now?”
Dranar shrugged, “You have been impressive so far, but you could only do so much, know so much from the outside, to succeed you need to meet with those willing to aid you.”
“So there are those who still believe in the old ways, in our House.”
“There are,” Dranar said carefully, “but they can not all just up and leave the Inner city to come to you. I know from experience why they will not leave themselves so exposed. But with you out here and the New Way busy deciding what to do with you there is opportunity. Get even a few of the Lords and Ladies of within to join you in attack and that will be enough to topple them from within. All you need to do is go to them, go to them and speak with them alone.”
“Most would say that impossible,” Averan said.
“Most would,” agreed Sandorn, “and also, how much do these Houses want from us exactly?’” He laughed, “They worry about leaving themselves exposed. If they want change then surely they must accept some risk, if not then do they truly desire it?”
“Within reason they do. I know it is hard for you to imagine. But should they join with you and fail then hundreds of years of their family and ancestors work will be left in the hands of the New Way. Likely the House will be destroyed and its members killed or exiled if they are lucky. It is a lot to risk.”
Sandorn shrugged but when Averan caught his eye they shared a glance.
We need the allies more than they need us. Sandorn knew it as well as he.
“It is true what you say.” Sandorn said, “It is a lot to risk. You must understand that we have been working towards this aim of ours for all our lives. Sometimes it is hard not to wish for a greater urgency.”
Dranar smiled, “You sound like your Father. He never did have time for indecisiveness, always ready for the next move, the next step. I loved your Father but realise now our mistakes. We had no allies. Nothing. Your Dad was the greatest warrior I ever seen, but he’d no time for politics. No patience. Without ensuring we had the necessary Houses behind us he rushed in, we were doomed. You must learn from that. Continue as you have been, building, always adding more to your side. That is how you will win.”
Averan had to admit, Dranar spoke well, and his words made sense. He supposed Father would not have been so close to him if he didn’t.
“You can get us a meeting then? With these would be allies?” Averan asked.
“I can, and what’s more I have already arranged it. Royal tunnels lie beneath the city. Built solely for your family in time of emergency. Your Father revealed them to me. From the very same tunnels that your Father and I once planned to use to attack the New Way and their allies you may slip in undetected.”
“And you can ensure that these would be allies will not betray us? How are we to know that they can be trusted. We might be walking into our death.”
“Believe me, I only went to those Lord and Ladies I was certain would support you. Only five. Those who did not shun me after your Father and I’s last attempt. I took no chances, there are likely many more who I could have invited to any meeting. But I had to be certain. Once you have met with the five I am certain of then you may consider those others who may or may not be willing to go against the New Way. They have agreed to meet you tomorrow at midnight, at the Temple of Arfall near the Eastern courts.”
A silence fell over them, Averan found himself wanting to catch another look at Alisha. However when he glanced over he had to quickly look away.
Staring right at me? Is it because I drew my weapon on them? Or something else, maybe she wanted to catch a look at me?
Averan shook his head slightly before realising she was still looking at him and his face as it contorted into an assortment of expressions as he pondered.
He refocused, narrowing his eyes once again. He thought he saw a hint of a smile on her face but couldn’t say for sure.
Sandorn got to his feet, “Lord Dranar.”
Sandorn held out a hand and Dranar shook it. Averan supposed he better offer his hand too. Dranar shook both warmly.
“You have our thanks for today, if not for you we’d of had fallen by the Gates. A rather dismal end that would have been. But as I am sure you can understand there is a great deal I, my Brother and our men must now discuss. I hope you will not feel adjudged by your exclusion from such discussions for the moment.”
Dranar raised a hand, “Have no fear of that King Sandorn. I and my family have made our decision. We are here now, there is no return left for us. Talk what you will with your men, I will be waiting. In the meantime Alisha and I will retire to our family in the Citadel. We too have much to discuss.”
Sandorn and Averan both nodded.
Dranar gave a terse bow to them before standing straight and staring ahead he placed two fingers to his forehead and then towards the sky. The Royal salute. Averan knew of it, but had only ever seen it from Fenadorn and a few of the selected soldiers. it was always done in private. To see Lord Dranar doing it now, so openly made him pause. Beside him Sandorn was similarly froze. Alisha followed her Father’s example making the same sign as her Father had.
Sandorn finally responded to the ancient sign, when he began to make his own Averan had found his own composure and was making it too. Fenadorn completed the signs. Averan couldn’t explain it, but he felt a thrill at both seeing and doing the sign so openly. Such customs had long been forgotten in Gorias. No more.
Smiling grimly Dranar began to move away, stopping only once more to
clasp hands with Fenadorn. Neither looked away when they met, Averan thought it strangely intense. But whatever it was between them only lasted a moment. Alisha followed up her father with a similarly brusque curtsy before they exited.
Sandorn waited until they had left before sitting back down.
“Well?”
Averan shrugged, “He seems a tad sensitive. But he did save our lives. That does count for a lot in my books.”
Sandorn tapped idly on his forehead, “Fenadorn?”
Fenadorn had been silent for a long time as they’d spoke, observing it all. Averan supposed it must have been difficult for him seeing Dranar after so long.
“Well, It is true that neither of you would be alive if not for him. And it is not just him that joined us, he brought his Family into this with him.”
“We can trust him?” Sandorn asked.
Fenadorn shrugged, “Dranar loved your Father more than anyone, worshipped him in many ways. Can we trust him? As much as we can trust anyone. Dranar was always ambitious. Had your Father and he succeeded he would have answered only to the King and no one else. His House the undisputed second of Gorias. I doubt he has changed much in that regard. His House did suffer badly from the failed coup, that is well known. From one of the most powerful and ancient Families to a Wreath, one step away from being excluded from the Forty. That will have hurt him, with the return of you two I’m sure he sees it as a way of reclaiming that lost glory and prestige. And he will do anything to achieve it.”
The sound of trumpets heralding riders broke into the conversation.
“That’ll be Wendon and the others.” Fenadorn strode over to the parapets so as to confirm.
“See what they have to report Fenadorn. We will be down shortly, we need to speak to Wendon and his fellow officers about the Inner Gates and wall.”
Fenadorn nodded and headed down.
Averan hiccuped, “Sorry,” he examined his cup, “wines a bit sweet isn’t it.”
Sandorn put a hand on Averan’s shoulder as he moved to walk off..
“What do you think of that girl of Dranar’s?”
“The girl? Oh yeah, ahm what was it Alice?”
“Alisha. Her name is Alisha.”
“Ahh yeah, yeah that’s it. Alisha. Pretty girl.”
Averan went back to examining his cup.
“You know we don’t have time for drama now. Nor romance.”
Averan sighed, “No time? Drama and romance are what make us human Brother, they are not something one can just turn off. And besides who says there has to be drama with romance? Can’t there be one without the other.”
“Perhaps, though not with you Brother.” Sandorn glared at him, “Just be cautious ok.”
“Cautious?” Averan looked at him with mock sincerity, “Yes my liege, as you command so it shall be.”
Sandorn put his fingers to his eyelids as Averan bowed low. Averan began to laugh but it was cut short as Sandorn shouldered past him sending him to the ground.
“Come Brother, there is much more for us to discuss. And bring that wine you think too sweet with you. It’ll make the speaking that bit easier.”
Averan smiled as he got to his feet.
It was barely past midday and already he’d survived an assassination attempt, met again the man his father called his closest friend, a man who he thought dead, and raised his weapon against one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen in person. An interesting morning, he thought, he could not wait to see what the evening would bring.