And So It Begins (2 page)

A footstep sounded behind him.

“Well
said
, my lord,” cheered a familiar and laughing voice. “Knowledge is the cornerstone of societies great and small, and the one true power that can topple empires, and destroy kings and kingdoms alike.”

Kherin tilted his head against the straight-backed chair he was slouched in as his sudden wash of surprise slipped quickly into a full and encompassing warmth. A smile played on his lips as he met the dark, amused eyes of the figure crossing the library toward him. Derek Resh, master trader and Kherin’s closest friend, could be found more often wandering the country than haunting the halls of the castle, though he walked across the room now like he’d been born here.

And the man was indeed laughing.

Tall and lean, the combination of clean, aristocratic features and the traditional black clothing worn by all traders made him look more like a bandit or thief than an employee of his father. The equally dark hair pulled into a tail at his neck also went against everything his father’s court would consider proper, though Kherin couldn’t deny he liked what the tail brought to the trader’s already handsome look. In fact, his hair was even longer than usual, which meant his last venture into the kingdom had been a busy one. He had, however, managed to shave any growth of beard, which meant he hadn’t just arrived in the city. Kherin’s smile slipped as he suddenly wondered why it had taken until now to learn of the trader’s presence in the castle, even as the bitter weight of confinement seemed to evaporate with each step the trader took.

Derek’s laughter had subsided to a wide smile by the time he stopped at Kherin’s shoulder, and the wink he gave was full of mischief and teasing as he touched the prince’s chin affectionately. “Besides, who knows when some of this stuff might prove useful, eh?”

“Happy to meet your approval,” Kherin returned flatly, but the effect was lost as Derek stooped and gathered him in a warm and welcoming hug. The smell of leather and saddle oil swirled around him as he felt the rugged scrape of skin and cloth against his cheek, and the feel of hard muscle under the tailored clothing never failed to surprise him, even as his awareness of it grew more intense with each passing year. Kherin returned the hug with his own genuine warmth.

Seven years Kherin’s elder, Derek had been a presence in the castle since Kherin was a child, first as an apprentice to one of the few trade masters allowed to conduct business inside the castle walls, and now holding the rank of a trade master in his own right, though a young one by comparison to others in the field, and one that dealt in information rather than tangible wares. He had nevertheless maintained the same privileges as his former master, and had in fact all but replaced him in the position of royal favor, and yet the genuine smiles and sincere warmth that had won over a six-year-old prince all those years ago hadn’t changed in all the years since.

“Welcome back,” Kherin breathed when the trader stepped back. Then he tossed the book on the table as he eyed his visitor skeptically. “And since when did you start calling me ‘my lord’?”

“Since you became old enough to learn lordly manners,” Derek replied archly, perching on the edge of the table. He picked up the book and examined it with a curious studiousness, flipping the pages at random.
“Interesting choice of reading material. I suppose you have already perused the strategies of assassins and the methods for recruiting spies?”

“Very funny,” Kherin grunted. “It just so happens poisons sounded more interesting than the religious edicts of some church that vanished a thousand years ago.”

“Tax accounts would be more interesting than the religious edicts of some church that vanished a thousand years ago, and would likely be more informative,” Derek returned bluntly. He dropped the book back to the table and regarded the prince with a returning smile. “So how is your leg? I won’t ask about your temperament, since I assume boredom is a poor companion.”

Kherin groaned as he stretched his back. “I’ve spent more time in this library in the last three weeks than I ever planned to my entire life,” he stated firmly, drawing Derek’s smile into a laugh. Derek hadn’t been at the castle when the accident had happened, though that was all but irrelevant when talking about how much information made it to the trader’s ears.

“Ah, and here I was approving of your newly found academic endeavors,” Derek managed, forcing a sobriety that didn’t quite make it to his eyes. “Llarien always has use for well-educated scholars.”

Kherin snorted. “And not enough use for its traders, or so it would seem if you’re back already. I wasn’t expecting you for at least another month.”

“Oh, how little you know of the trading business, my prince. Predictability can be the death of a profitable business.” He laughed again when Kherin rolled his eyes. “Actually, I had business to discuss with your father, which, I am relieved to say, is now happily concluded.”

Kherin didn’t miss the bait thrown out by the mere mention of his father, though he frowned slightly as a different question formed in his mind. “So how long have you been here?”

“Just since this morning,” Derek assured him. “And I will be leaving again tomorrow. Not as long as I would like, but long enough to rescue a certain young prince from a life of idle laziness for one night.”

“You mean call on the rules of hospitality and force me to entertain you,” Kherin amended shrewdly, though his heart leaped at knowing he at least had Derek for the evening.

“View it as you will,” Derek conceded teasingly with a short and formal bow, though his smile was warm when he straightened. “Care for a game of Merels?”

Kherin readily agreed. He suggested summoning wine as Derek located the board and pieces from somewhere among the cluttered shelves, and let his amusement play out as the trader assumed the role of royal blood by sending the summons to the kitchen, rather than insisting the order be issued by the prince. A second chair was then dragged to the table, and Kherin finally gave in to the curiosity he felt nudging him.

“So what did you want to talk to my father about?”

“Hmm?” Derek didn’t raise his eyes as he swiftly arranged the board with its red and black pieces, although the twitch of a suppressed smile gave away the fact that he had been expecting the question. Kherin resisted shaking his head as he waited.

“Very little, actually,” Derek answered casually after a moment. “There seems to be some activity happening east I thought your father should be aware of.”

Kherin raised an eyebrow. “Enough ‘activity’ for you to come in person rather than send a messenger?”

Derek’s eyes glittered above his smile. “Messengers are less than reliable in the port city, my prince, and far too expensive for a simple trader.”

Kherin snorted in answer. “Port city” obviously meant Dennor, the only port large enough to be known by that simple two-word title. But as for the expense of a messenger—traders reaching the rank of “master” were rarely short of funds, and Derek was far more than “simple.” His position of royal favor, combined with his close relationship to both princes, had seen to that. Kherin had no doubt a messenger would be a minor expense for someone of Derek’s standing, so as to why Derek hadn’t chosen one….

“Are the harbor masters in Dennor raising their duties without permission again?” he prompted innocently. He doubted it, but raising duties was the most common transgression that took place in the port city, and it was the obvious answer to the opening Derek had left. He was surprised to see a touch of something else in Derek’s approving smile, although he was rewarded with an answer that was surprisingly as forthcoming as he had hoped it would be.

“Not harbor duties this time, my prince. Northerners.”

“Northerners?” Kherin frowned. Dennor wasn’t on the border, and was, in fact, well south of it. What could northerners have to do with Dennor?

Derek returned to arranging the game pieces, though the tilt of his lips was still evident even with his head bowed. “Rumor has it they have been gathering in the outlying areas and attacking the farms.”

“Outside
Dennor
?” He had to be joking, and Kherin didn’t bother to hide his incredulousness.

But Derek only gave a slight shrug. “It would seem the northerners are slipping through the eastern Defenders, most likely in small groups, and gathering between the border and nearest cities.”

“That’s not possible,” Kherin insisted.

Derek’s head lifted, one eyebrow raised. “A bit presumptuous, my prince,” he chided gently. “Unlikely, perhaps, but by all means possible, though at the moment only a rumor. An increasingly believed one, however.”

Kherin sighed at the reprimand, and he studied the trader silently for a moment before speaking. Derek wasn’t usually taken in by far-fetched tales, so for him to bring it up…. “Do you believe them?”

Derek shrugged again, and then gave a soft chuckle as he sat back. “No, I don’t. Rumors tend to get exaggerated with the telling, so I don’t give much credence to this Great Northern Uprising.”

Kherin watched him without blinking. “Do you give any credence to it at all?”

Derek paused as he met the prince’s eyes, and then exhaled as he conceded the point.

“Unfortunately, yes,” he said at last. “Not to the uprising, but northerners have been seen on Llarien land.”

“You’ve seen them?”
The chair creaked as Kherin leaned forward, though the sudden flash of pain stilled him almost immediately. He drew a slow breath and shifted more carefully. “You’ve seen the northerners around Dennor?”

“I’ve seen one. Just one, Kherin,” Derek repeated firmly, forestalling Kherin’s next words. “Or so the citizens of Dennor claimed. The body was burned so badly there was no way to tell for sure.”

“Burned?” Kherin repeated, frowning deeper. “Why would they burn the body?”

“The farmers burned him, or her,” Derek told him, smiling tightly. “As I said, it was difficult to tell. The farmers claimed the northerner attacked, and they killed him in defense of their property. The burning was most likely done for spite.”

“But one northerner?” Kherin demanded. “Attacking a whole farm? Or was he attacking the animals?”

Derek’s smile loosened at that. “The farmers claimed he attacked the people, not the animals.”

“But one northerner?” Kherin repeated. “Why? And even if it was true, how is a single northerner worth traveling from Dennor to Delfore to tell my father about?”

Derek’s smile was brilliant. “Ah, my prince, that is the question, isn’t it?”

Kherin stared, and then groaned inwardly at the obvious answer. “Because it isn’t just the northerner that brought you here, is it? So what’s the rest of it?”

“The rest of it,” Derek began graciously, “is the army that Dennor is raising in reprisal.”

“The
what?
”

Derek nearly laughed at the startled reaction. “They are far from accomplishing that task,” he assured the prince, “and it’s doubtful they will ever fully succeed. But it seems a few of the wealthier sons have seen fit to try and take matters into their own hands. I’ve heard the speeches they give, though even as loud as they are, they get few takers.”

“But they do have some takers.” It wasn’t a question.

“Mostly other bored and wealthy sons.” Derek shrugged. “But they are only a small faction in a large city.”

Kherin wasn’t fully convinced, but he let the matter pass. He was, however, growing more suspicious of the trader.

“So what’s the rest of it?” he asked again, watching the trader closely. “The northerner and the so-called army combined wouldn’t be enough to distract my father. What else is there?”

The dark eyes flashed both warmth and approval as Derek leaned forward, resting his hands on the game board.

“It’s not ‘what else’, my prince,” he began, a tutor lecturing a student. “And it’s not the northerner or the army combined that’s important; it’s what they imply.”

Kherin waited silently.

“And what they imply,” Derek continued smoothly, “is that the rumors add fuel to the speeches, and the speeches give credibility to the rumors, and so neither will let the other die out. With the rumors and the speeches feeding off one another, the possibility of the situation turning volatile in the future becomes real, and that is what I came to discuss with your father.”

Kherin considered the words as the trader finished. What Derek said made sense; there was no question about that. Merely by living in the castle, he had witnessed how rumors grew nearly uncontrollable as long as there was something to fuel them. With the constant fuel of the rumors and the army….

“So what is he planning to do?” Kherin asked then, the next natural question.

Derek drew in a breath and let it out slowly, studying the prince a moment before answering. “Watch the situation, much as you would expect, though little else unless it becomes necessary.”

“And by the time it becomes necessary, it could be too late,” Kherin muttered, not at all surprised by the line of thinking, and he saw the flicker in the trader’s expression that said he agreed.

“Perhaps you should speak to him about the situation yourself,” Derek suggested with an air of casualness, turning his attention to the game board. “He might be pleased to see you take an interest in handling the activities of the kingdom.”

Meaning that Derek had either already spoken to his father about it and failed to change his mind, or he was leaving it for Kherin to do in hopes of opening the door to a more peaceful existence between father and second son. Either way, the corners of Kherin's mouth tightened, and he bitterly swallowed his answer before dropping his eyes as well.

Adrien wasn’t the only one who had tried to reconcile father and son, though the trader was more blunt in pressing Kherin into being the first to make amends. Maybe it was because he placed the greater portion of the responsibility—or the blame—at Kherin’s feet, though it could be just as likely he was in far less of a position than Adrien to press the king. Regardless of which, he had nevertheless met with no more success than Adrien, and the silence around them had turned heavy by the time a servant arrived bearing wine.