Rick Shelley - Son of the Hero

"Don't get up or everyone'll think that the meal is over," he said around his food.

I nodded and settled down again. More coffee. A little more of the hot bread. The coffee was rotten enough to make anyone want to fight. I watched the people at the lower table but tried to be inconspicuous about it. I wanted a better feel for this world, wherever it was-whatever it was. Most of the people at the table had to be guards, soldiers, minor court functionaries. Maybe knights. None of them looked very fancy, not like in the movies-you know, King Arthur and Camelot, Robin Hood and Sherwood Forest, that sort of thing. Some of these jokers looked like common thugs, men that street cops would roust just on general principles. Others looked like winos at a skid-row mission. It was a while before I found out that I wasn't far wrong.

Parthet quit eating, sat up bolt straight, and stared toward the side of the hall. I turned to see what had captured his attention.

"I guess that's it for breakfast," he said, and he sighed.

"Why? Who is it?"

"Baron Kardeen, Lord High Chamberlain." The baron came right to us. Someone had given him the word, because he wasn't surprised to see me.

"Your Highness," he said with a gesture that was more nod than bow. "It's good to finally see you back at court." Back?

"Baron," I said with a nod that was carefully just a fraction less than his. That came naturally.

"Parthet, I see that you can still surprise us on occasion."

"I try. Has His Majesty risen yet?"

"He's up and anxious to see his grandson."

"That's good," Parthet said. "We're anxious to see His Majesty." That seemed to be a proper cue. I stood. So did Parthet-and everyone else.

"Go ahead, keep eating," I said, waving toward the people at the lower table. A few sat down quickly. Others were slower, but by the time Parthet and I left the room, most of the people had returned to their victuals.

We went out a side door, down a corridor, up a broad stairway. There were narrow window openings on the courtyard and on the great hall until we got above the rafters. The stairway climbed another thirty steps before we got to a landing and went along another corridor. This one was lit only by a large window at the far end. We went halfway down the hall before the chamberlain turned to double doors on our right and pushed them open.

Kardeen gestured us through. Inside, no introductions were needed. Parthet went to where Pregel was sitting on the edge of the largest bed I've ever seen and went down on one knee. So did I.

"Get up, get up," Pregel said. His voice was reedy but strong. He did look old, but nothing like one hundred twenty-five. I would have guessed seventy-ish. But what good were my guesses when Parthet claimed to be a lot more than six hundred years old and didn't look much older than fifty?

"It's been a long time, Gil," Pregel said. "I haven't seen you since you were so small you couldn't see across the top of this bed." He glanced at Parthet, then back at me. "You may have been four or five, no more. Your parents thought you were getting too old to bring back all the time without your asking a lot of questions." He shrugged and stood. He was a little taller than me. "They wanted to wait until you were grown to tell you of your heritage. I still think it was the wrong choice, but it was theirs to make. And how you've grown!" He took my by the arm, and we started toward the door. His grip was strong, and he didn't move like one hundred twenty-five and ailing. Parthet and the chamberlain followed us.

"I still know almost nothing about it, Your Majesty," I said. "This crisis. All I had was a note from Mother saying that she thought Dad might be in trouble and she was going to try to rescue him."

"Avedell has always been headstrong," Pregel said. "It runs in the family. Gallops. I wish I could say that the crisis is past, that they've made it back from Castle Thyme, but we've had no word from either of them."

"I think that's why I'm here. I guess it's my turn. And I really don't know where to start."

"If I were a bit younger, I'd saddle up and lead the army after them, or ride along with you myself. But the army, such as it is, is fully occupied in the north, trying to hold back magic with metal. It doesn't work as well as a good wizard would." He didn't raise his voice or look back, but I couldn't miss the rebuke he was directing at Parthet. Neither could Parthet.

"When this is over," I said, "perhaps I can take Parthet back to my world to let an eye doctor fit him with proper glasses."

"Anything to help," Pregel said. Parthet kept silent.

We crossed to a room on the other side of the hall.

"My private dining room," Pregel said, "for days when I don't feel like going up and down steps." The room was thirty feet square. A long table bisected the room. There was a fancy chair at one end and six plainer chairs along each side. As soon as the king arrived, servants started hauling in food through a door in the back corner.

"Will you join me in a little breakfast?" the king asked. I had a notion that it wouldn't be proper etiquette to refuse even though I was stuffed. I didn't need Parthet's discreet throat-clearing behind me.

"I'd be honored," I said.

"It never hurts to fill up the corners," Parthet said.

"We did have a bite downstairs," I said.

Just the three of us sat, with Parthet across the table from me. Pages served us. Kardeen stood at the king's right elbow. He didn't eat, but he didn't seem to be lacking for nourishment. Pregel started on a large platter of food. So did Parthet. The wizard ate as if it had been twenty days since his last meal, not twenty minutes. I ate just a little, and had trouble with that.

"We've had no news at all from Castle Thyme," Pregel said after he had made serious inroads on breakfast. "Your father went some two weeks ago, taking just his squire and two men-at-arms. Your mother came through four days back and set off at once. She didn't even stop to eat. Of course, there really hasn't been time for her to get to Thyme and back. Or scarcely enough. It's two days each way, and that wouldn't leave her time to do anything."

"Her note said she expected to be home yesterday afternoon," I said.

Pregel frowned. "Peculiar. She knows how long the journey takes."

"Could she have planned to use magic doors to get there and back?"

"There are none in or near Castle Thyme. Too risky."

"Perhaps she merely wanted to ensure that Gil would follow as soon as possible," Parthet suggested.

"Could be," I said. "She always used to say it was later than it really was when she was trying to get me up for school."

"Or perhaps she thought the situation would be beyond her ability to handle alone," Parthet said.

"Then I should hurry."

The king nodded. "Parthet, you do plan to accompany him, don't you?"

"Of course, Your Majesty. He knows nothing of our country."

"I don't like this one bit. Turning a stranger loose on such a perilous mission." Pregel stared at me. "I don't like risking my heir like this."

I looked from him to Parthet. Neither was paying any attention to me at the moment. His heir?

"The lad hasn't proved himself," Parthet said. "Much as I like him, you can't know that he will be the heir you need."

"He is my heir," Pregel said firmly.

"You know, Your Majesty," I said, just to remind everyone that I was still in the room, "I still don't know what the hell anyone's talking about."

Three pairs of eyes turned to me.

"You are my only direct male descendant," the king said. "Heir apparent to the throne of Varay."

I don't think anyone heard the muted "Holy shit!" that I just couldn't restrain.

Pregel groused and pouted by turn. His face got red. He left food on his plate, shoved it away, got up and went to one of the four tall, narrow windows in the room. I got up from the table with relief, Parthet with reluctance. We waited for His Majesty. Baron Kardeen remained as he had been. Waiting seemed to be his natural function. The wait wasn't long, but as usual in uncomfortable situations, it seemed eternal.