Ginn Hale - Lord of the White Hell Book One

Another page arrived and offered Prince Sevanyo a silver tray stacked with small pieces of creamy paper. Each of them bore the seal of some noble house or a merchant's name. The prince chose several of them but told the page not to extend the invitations just yet.

Kiram stole another glance down to the arena below, where pairs of first-year students dressed in thick leather cuirasses fought with blunted silver blades. Only the crests on their gauntlets designated which school they came from. Judges in white coats walked between the contestants, calling fouls and strikes. The fights were fast and most ended amiably. Javier watched them intently but the prince was obviously bored.

Prince Sevanyo leaned forward a little to study Kiram. He didn't quite look at Kiram's face but instead seemed to be gazing at his hair.

"It really is quite an amazing color," Prince Sevanyo commented. He reached past Javier and caught a curl of Kiram's hair. Kiram froze in place. The prince pulled the lock of hair straight and then released it to bounce back into a spiral.

"You know, one of my ancestors had a cloak made entirely from Haldiim scalps," Prince Sevanyo said quietly. "I used to play with it when I was a boy. It really was the most beautiful thing. The leather was soft as silk and the hair looked just like long curling ribbons of gold. I loved it madly. When I turned ten I was told where the hides had come from."

A cold sick feeling gripped Kiram. Javier scowled at the prince but said nothing.

Prince Sevanyo took another sip of his wine. "I cannot tell you how horrified I was to discover how that cloak had been made. I could not bear to even look at it, much less touch it again. I burned it and then I cried all night. To this day I am not sure whether I was crying because I lost something I loved or because I had loved it in the first place."

Kiram had no idea what to say in response. But the prince didn't seem to expect any answer.

"I have not met many Haldiim in my life but whenever I do I am always struck by the thought that I am at last admiring those lovely curls as I ought to have in the first place. It's as though I am seeing the owners of those scalps reborn into better lives. That's what your priests would say, isn't it?"

Kiram wasn't sure but the prince seemed intent on this so Kiram nodded and the prince smiled.

"Even if you Haldiim are denied our holy heaven, I would like to believe that your souls can find some kind of peace." The prince sat forward again but to Kiram's relief he didn't reach for his hair. "I am told that your dead are reborn into other forms and if they have been wronged they can return as a curse."

"Yfes." Kiram wished that Javier would say something but Javier just leaned back in the seat and looked tired.

"How do you Haldiim lift these curses?" Prince Sevanyo's expression was intent and his tone very serious. "Without the solace of heaven how can you put an angry soul to rest?"

Kiram glanced to Javier, but Javier only shrugged.

"I don't know," Kiram admitted. "I'm not from a religious family, Your Highness. We never discuss these matters. I'm sorry."

"Not religious?" The prince looked stunned for a moment then gave a short laugh. "Did you hear that, Javier?"

"I did," Javier replied. He gave Kiram a quick apologetic look.

"Tell me," the prince said to Kiram, "if you are not religious, then what do you make of Javier and the white hell, young Haldiim?"

"I.I don't know," Kiram replied.

Beside him, Javier sighed. "When he thinks of me at all, he thinks I'm an ass who keeps interrupting his work for the Crown Challenge with annoying, superstitious babble."

Prince Sevanyo raised his brows.

"Really?"

"Really," Javier replied firmly and something unspoken seemed to pass between Prince Sevanyo and Javier. The prince sighed and took another sip of his wine.

"The Crown Challenge. That will be quite an accomplishment." The intensity dropped from Prince Sevanyo's voice leaving only a polite interest. "I suppose it's good then that you are receiving a proper Cadeleonian education. My father loves to retain geniuses at his court. No doubt he will want you there. He is quite sure that we are moving into a new age of mechanist wonders, but I cannot help but find them eerie-mechanisms without life or souls, moving about like living things."

Kiram had heard the same sentiments before, generally from older people. He considered his reply, but then Javier caught his arm and pulled him forward to the edge of the box.

"Watch out for this one, Kiram." Javier pointed to a young man in one of the fencing circles. He looked tall for a first-year student and his face was oddly expressionless.

"Ariz Plunado?" the prince asked.

Javier nodded.

"Bland thing, isn't he?" Prince Sevanyo commented.

Kiram found himself in agreement with the prince. Not even the reddish tint of Ariz's hair lent any character to his appearance. He moved quickly, but without grace or emotion.

He lunged forward. His opponent easily parried his strike, but then suddenly stumbled and fell to the ground. Ariz placed his blade to the fallen man's heart and was immediately declared the winner. Only then did Ariz allow himself a small, satisfied smile.

"Well, there is something to him after all, isn't there?" Prince Sevanyo commented.

"Did you see what he did?" Javier asked Kiram.

"No," Kiram admitted.

"All the time that they were fencing Ariz kept tripping his opponent until he finally brought him down. It's the second time he's won that way. Keep your feet in close when you're up against him. Make him overextend to get at you."

"I'll try," Kiram replied, though he had no idea how he would manage any such thing.

The three of them watched another pair of first-year students duel. Kiram's attention wandered and he found himself searching the stands for his uncle.

"Tell me, Kiram, have you thought of conversion?" Prince Sevanyo asked.

"What?" Kiram looked up quickly.

"Have you considered converting to the Holy Cadeleonian Church?" Prince Sevanyo briefly glanced to another of his pages and accepted two more papers with noble seals embossed upon them. "If you are to attend the royal court you ought to do so. Otherwise you'll have half the courtiers spreading nasty rumors about your private habits before they've even laid eyes on you. Taking a Cadeleonian wife would help as well. Probably one of those charming merchant girls. You aren't already engaged, are you?"

"No," Kiram said, though he immediately regretted it.

"One of my bailiffs has a daughter who would be just about the right age." The prince nodded as he considered the prospect.

Alarm shot through Kiram.

"I.I really couldn't marry right now," Kiram managed.

"Of course not now," the prince replied. "You must finish your schooling first. But it's always wise to have your plans in order, you know."

Kiram wondered how it was possible that a Cadeleonian prince could fill him with the same cold, trapped fear that his mother often inspired. He thought that it had to be something about older people. So many of them seemed intent upon planning his future for him. Both the prince and his mother seemed so sure of what would be best for him that they were already working out the details.

Conversion. Marriage. Living at court. Taking over his father's shop. Living at home for the rest of his life.

He didn't want either of the lives they planned for him.

"The first years are almost done," Javier announced. "We should get back down to the rest of the students. Kiram still needs to change into his cuirass and byrnie."

"It's good to see you take a responsibility so seriously, Javier," Prince Sevanyo commented.

"A man must serve his obligations. Though I won't deny that I have a sizable wager on Kiram to best Elezar Grunito's underclassman."