Michael Manning - The Line of Illeniel

For the journey we wore plain traveling clothes and I convinced Penny to wear her chain shirt as well. “I still don’t see why you want me wearing this smelly thing. It’s hot enough already without wearing a lot of heavy metal on top of it all,” she complained.

“It isn’t that heavy anymore and you know it,” I countered. Part of the enchantment I had placed on her armor reduced the weight by half. The shirt had weighed over thirty pounds before, now it was closer to fifteen.

“Why aren’t you wearing armor then?” she arched an eyebrow at me.

“You’re my guard, I’m just a traveling nobleman,” I smirked at her. “Besides, do you honestly think anyone could hurt me?” I said a word and my shield glowed visibly for a moment.

“That didn’t work so well the other night with that creature,” she pointed out.

“That’s why I have my stalwart companion to protect me,” I declared loudly.

She snorted, “And here I thought I was your fiancee, so much for my gallant knight!” That remark annoyed me and she knew it. Still I didn’t let her take off the chain byrnie. I worried she might need its protection at some moment when I couldn’t protect her.

I need not have worried. Our trip passed uneventfully, but the first night we discovered how cold the evenings could be. We were eating cold rations so we hadn’t bothered with a fire. Lying on a lumpy bedroll and wrapped in a simple wool blanket we huddled together for warmth.

“It’s awfully cold. Couldn’t you just ‘bippity boppity boo’ up a fire for warmth?” she suggested.

“Then we wouldn’t have an excuse to snuggle!”

“As if you ever needed an excuse!” she replied mockingly, but her eyes were smiling.

Overall it was a pleasant trip. Rather like a camping vacation. We rode, we ate, we camped and within a span of six days we arrived at Albamarl. We had passed through several villages on the way but we declined to stay in them. Something about the novelty of being on our own, alone for the first time; appealed to both of us. I think we were both a bit regretful that the trip was over when we reached the city gates.

Neither of us had ever been outside of the area of Lancaster or Washbrook, so the sight of the great city was a shock. The pictures and drawings I had seen in books just didn’t do it justice. It was so big. The road was paved the last few miles before we reached the massive gates. At the entrance the road expanded until it was over thirty feet wide, flanked on either side by two massive towers of stone.

There was a famous quarry near the capital, which produced a lot of rose granite, so everything had been faced with it. This had the effect of making the entire city sort of pink. For that reason Albamarl was sometimes called the ‘Rose of Lothion’.

The guards took no notice of us as we entered. I suppose so many people went through the gates each day they couldn’t question them all. I stopped to ask one how to reach the royal palace and he looked at me oddly, “Just follow the main street. You’ll know it when you see it.” He turned away, without waiting to see if I had any more questions. I decided if I ever had guards they’d be trained to be more polite.

His directions turned out to be more than adequate though. The main road was straight, heading directly into the heart of the city. Various winding streets led away from it, probably circling the great city, but this street went straight to the center, like the spoke of a wheel. We passed stone buildings and houses, shops and businesses, till at last we reached what could only be the royal palace.

The gate here was also guarded, but a bit more seriously. “Ho! State your business traveler!” Two men barred our path. Their faces bore looks of extreme disinterest; apparently road weary travelers were rarely welcome.

“I am Mordecai Illenial, the Count di’Cameron and this is my fiancee Penelope Cooper. We seek entrance that we may obey the summons of our king,” I answered, using my most disdainful tone. I had been taking lessons from Benchley.

“You’ll pardon me my lord, if I find that hard to believe. Do you have papers to prove your claim?” He gave me a hard stare but the other guard’s eyes widened a bit. He leaned in to whisper in the first man’s ear. I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, but I distinctly caught the word ‘wizard’ and ‘Tremont’. Even after a year the story of the battle at Lancaster must still be circulating.

“Certainly,” I answered him and drew out the letter from King Edward. As I handed it over I made sure he saw my grandfather’s signet ring on my hand. He scanned the document quickly, but I’m not sure he even read it.

“If you will come inside I will have someone escort you immediately, my lord.” His tone was suitably respectful now. We were taken in and told to wait for a moment in the courtyard. A moment later two groomsmen arrived to take our horses. One of them assured me our things would be sent directly to our rooms.

Penny leaned over to whisper in my ear, “Doesn’t all this make you nervous?”

I smiled at her confidently, “Hell yes. But one thing I learned from watching Marc is never let them see you sweat. Half of being an aristocrat is confidence.” In fact I had never been more nervous in my life.

“If you’ll follow me sir,” the man who spoke looked as though he might be a close relative of Benchley’s. He had that air about him, smug bastard. He led us through a maze of courtyards and hallways, until at last we reached a door. Presumably to our room, if it was a dungeon they were considerably upscale from what I had been led to expect.

He opened the door and passed me the key. The rooms, perhaps I should call them a ‘suite’, were sumptuous. The first room was a large living area, wide open spaces and furniture for lounging dominated the room. It had several doors leading off from it. Upon investigation I found one led to a large bedroom, the second to a smaller bedroom. A third door led into a private bath! I had never heard of such a thing.

It was like having a small pond indoors. Water ran constantly from a small opening on one wall and drained away where it overflowed through a clever arrangement of drains. I had no idea how it was managed but it seemed like purest extravagance to me.

“Are the rooms to your liking sir?” the servant asked meekly. Inwardly I was sure he was sneering. How could they not be to my liking? Until recently I had lived in a house with a dirt floor and thought myself lucky.

“They’re satisfactory,” I replied. I could ‘snob’ it up with the best of them. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing just how impressed I was. “When will we meet with his majesty?” I asked.

“He has already been informed of your arrival. I should expect he will send for you when he is ready.”

“What is your name?” I inquired.

He seemed mildly surprised, “Adam sir.”

I liked to know the names of the people I was dealing with, “Adam, could you give me an idea when that might be? I fear I am new to the royal court and have no clue what to expect. I’m sure you possess far more knowledge on the subject than I.”

Adam was definitely surprised now; I would guess he wasn’t used to being spoken to so directly. “I would venture to say he will probably call for you sometime before dinner. Otherwise you will see him at the evening meal.”

“I appreciate your candor, do you know if the Duke of Lancaster has arrived yet?”

“He sent his man over yesterday to announce his presence,” Adam replied.

“He isn’t staying at the palace?”

“The Lancasters maintain a residence in the city my lord.” That was news to me, but then I knew very little about the city. I knew Marc was here somewhere as well, but I had assumed he would be staying at the palace.