Laughter wafted from the living room as Alain entered his home, and the scent of tea freshly brewed tea filled his nostrils. He had lived here for his entire life, but both were so alien to his home, that he felt disoriented and paused in the hallway that connected the various rooms. Moments later, a tall woman in her forties appeared from the kitchen bearing a tray laden with a steaming teapot and two porcelain cups.
“Mother!” Gratia gasped, her eyes wide with surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Indina Laevis smiled impishly. She was a handsome woman, slim, in her late forties with dark hair and eyes. She doted on Alain, but the boy didn’t like the way she looked at his father.
“I happen to know firsthand that Argan doesn’t know the first thing about serving guests, so I thought I had best make myself useful, especially with a guest as important as…” she began. Her smile grew wider when she saw Alain. “Ah, Alain, welcome home. Your father is in the living room. You didn’t tell me he was friends with the King.”
“It’s news to me as well,” Alain murmured. His head was swimming. His father was an unremarkable man, known more for his lackadaisical attitude than anything else.
Indina crinkled her eyes and cocked her head at the living room. “I can take them from here, Sir Randal.”
The warrior bowed stiffly before taking his leave. “My Lady.”
Alain led the way to the living room where he was greeted by a surreal scene that left him wondering if this was all some bizarre, vivid dream. There was his father, a tall bear of a man sporting an ample belly, unshaven and looking dishevelled, leaning back in his favourite armchair chatting affably with a slender man who was seated across from him.
Not a thing looked out of place, from the threads on his finely stitched clothes to his short cropped white hair, to the regal air that seemed to surround him. Deep lines were etched in his face as he smiled and listened to some raucous story his father was telling involving drunken antics. When he offered a word here and there, his voice was refined and elegant, making his father sound all the more rough and boorish by comparison.
Argan Sumner was the first to notice the new arrivals, and Alain thought he saw a flash of concern cross his father’s face when their eyes first met. Unable to interpret the intent behind the look, Alain paused at the doorway, causing his friends to bump into his back.
“Oh Alain,” Indina sighed. “Do be careful. We can’t be spilling tea in front of the King.”
Alain swallowed and dropped to a knee. His friends were quick to follow. “Your Majesty, we are at your service,” they said.
“There’s no need for that,” the King laughed. “Please, rise.”
“My Liege,” Argan said without getting up from his chair. “May I introduce my son, Alain, and his friends, Eldrick, and Gratia. Gratia here is Indina’s daughter.”
“A splitting image of your mother,” the King said. Alain bowed his head self-consciously as the King’s eyes seemed to bore into him.
“You’ve raised a strapping young lad, Argan.”
“If only it were true, My Lord,” Argan said with a tinge of sadness that felt like a dagger through Alain’s heart.
“La, Argan, that’s no way to speak about your son!” Indina admonished as she served the tea.
“Sorry lad,” Argan said ruefully before running a hand through his grey streaked brown hair. “As you may have guessed, this is King Harfel Thuridan, Ruler of Gestarnia.”
“So it’s true,” Alain breathed as he got to his feet. He looked at his father in his dishevelled state and felt his anger rise. “Father, just what sort of stories are you sharing with our king? Tales of drunken benders?"
“He asked what I’ve been up to of late,” his father protested defensively. “Would you rather I lied?”
“Yes!” Alain cried, exasperated. Then, he remembered he was in the presence of royalty and shrank back. “I’m sorry if I or my father have offended…”
To his surprise, the King began to cackle. “Ah yes, he takes after his mother, this one. You often had her at her wits’ end as well…”
A shadow fell over his father’s face. “I miss her dearly.”
“We both do,” Alain blurted. “Forgive me if I am speaking out of turn, but I heard you have news about her?”
Alain noticed his father furrow his brow in disapproval in the corner of his eye but was undeterred and kept his eye rapt on the regal looking man before him.
Harfel returned Alain’s gaze. The King’s eyes were a steely grey, and the boy could feel the intense will behind them. The King was testing his mettle, and though he dearly wanted to, Alain didn’t look away. At length, the old man turned to Argan and gave him an apologetic look.
“I am sorry old friend,” he began. “I see too much of his mother in him, and I could never say no to her.”
Alain could tell that his father wasn’t pleased, but after a brief struggle, calm returned to Argan’s face, and he gave a carefree shrug. “Who am I to tell you what to do, Your Majesty?”
Harfel smiled wanly before turning back to Alain. “As you know, your mother was in hot pursuit of the Legion before they both disappeared without a trace. That is until a month ago. My agents in the north reported sightings of this most vile creature. I came here to ask your father to lead an expedition to bring him to justice, and hopefully, to also discover your mother’s fate.”
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Alain shot his father an incredulous look as the older Sumner scratched his belly and emptied his cup of tea in a single gulp. “Him?”
A toothy grin split the King’s face. “It may be hard to believe, looking at him now, but Argan Sumner was once Gestarnia’s mightiest warrior.”
“He was?” Alain made a face. “Are you sure?”
“Oh yes, your parents made quite the pair in their heyday,” Harfel’s eyes lit up like a child’s as he spoke. “The Ogre and the Arch Mage was what they were called.”
Alain blinked. There was that nickname again. He looked at his father as he lazed in his chair with his ample belly, tea stained shirt, and the gormless look on his face. It was difficult to picture him as a ferocious warrior.
“Those days are long behind me, Your Majesty.” Argan paused when Indina leaned over to refill his cup. “Thank you, dearie.”
Alain glanced at Gratia, whose face mirrored his own look of disdain. Argan quaffed his drink before continuing. “I’m afraid I am no longer the Ogre of the South. Far from it, in fact…”
Alain felt his temper flare. “Don’t you dare tell me you are refusing to go looking for Mother!”
“Your mother is dead!” Argan’s voice was like a lash, taking Alain aback. This was the first time he had heard his father raise his voice. The others, even the King could only watch on in silence.
Argan saw the hurt on his son’s face and softened his tone. “Charging out after the Legion after years of sedentary life could well cost you your only remaining parent. I will not turn you into an orphan. It’s not what your mother would have wanted.”
“She isn’t dead!” Alain cried, careless of the hot tears that rolled down his cheeks. “If you are too much of a coward, I will go on this expedition in your stead!”
Argan narrowed his eyes and gave his son a look of cold fury that sent shivers down Alain’s spine. “You know full well that your mother was one of the mightiest sorceresses in the kingdom. What could you contribute to an expedition to pursue her killer?”
Alain gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to hurl the steaming pot of tea into his father’s face. “At least I haven’t given up on her!”
Without waiting for his father to respond, the boy turned on his heel and stormed out of the house, careless of the stunned stares he attracted from the armoured men and the gawkers standing across the road whose numbers had only grown. Alain looked up and down the street before deciding to storm off into the forest.
As he walked down the well-trodden path through the forest, Alain began to formulate a plan. He had a chance to find his mother and bring her home! He wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip. He would just have to wait until the King left his house and intercept him once he left town to beg His Majesty to allow him to join the expedition.
The only trouble was he wasn’t sure which way the King would take out of town. As dim-witted as his father was, even he would catch him if he stayed too close to the house to observe the King’s procession. It stood to reason he would use the same route he took in. Should he return to town and ask someone? No, he would just get a slew of questions in return, why the King himself was visiting his home being chief among them.
As he walked, he became aware of someone walking behind him. Possibly a nosy neighbour. Or… He looked over his shoulder and spotted Eldrick in the distance. No doubt sent after him by his father… If Eldrick was here… he turned back and jumped when he noticed Gratia walking beside him, moving as silently as a wraith.
“You scared me!” he cried.
“You should be more aware of your surroundings,” Gratia shrugged.
“What’s with you storming off like that?” Eldrick demanded, taking long strides to catch up to the others. “Are you five years old?”
“In front of the King, no less,” Gratia added.
“The two of you wouldn’t understand,” Alain fumed. “Did they send you to keep an eye on me?”
“What do you think?” Eldrick asked while Gratia bobbed her head.
“Figures,” Alain sighed. After a moment, he perked up. “Say, would the two of you like to join me on an adventure?”
“Oh no,” Eldrick said. “You’ve heard the stories about the Legion, how he sacrificed his kingdom in exchange for immortality.”
Alain smirked. “I always knew you were a chicken at heart despite your size, Eldrick. A great big chicken.”
“I’m not taking that from a shrimp like you,” the taller boy snorted.
“That’s enough, you two,” Gratia barked. She looked around before leaning over so that she could whisper into Alain’s ear, which struck Alain as odd given that the three of them were in the middle of a forest and very much alone. “If you’re thinking of sneaking out to join this expedition, I will help you out.”
“You will?” both boys gasped in unison, their eyes wide with surprise.
Gratia nodded. “This will be a good opportunity to prove myself.”
“You?” Alain scoffed. “What do you have to prove?”
“You’re the best girl at the sword for miles around,” Eldrick added.
Gratia made a face. “That’s exactly it, isn’t it? I’m the best girl. How many women go on to serve as warriors in lord’s armies?”
“Is that…” Alain bit his lip before continuing. “Is that what you want?”
Gratia glared at the boy, causing him to take a step back. “Did you think only boys are allowed to dream of glory in battle? Why else would I have worked so hard to hone my skills?”
“Do your parents know about this dream of yours?” Alain ventured.
Gratia looked down before nodding. “Neither of them approves.”
“Then perhaps you should reconsider…” Alain began.
Gratia glared at him again. “You are the last person I want to hear that from.”
Alain opened his mouth but had no response. At length, Gratia continued. “All I’m saying is I am willing to help if you are trying to get yourself included in this expedition.”
“You’ve both lost your minds,” Eldrick breathed.
“As for you, Eldrick Jordist,” Gratia said, whirling around to face the boy. “I won’t think less of you if you don’t want to join us.”
“I will,” Alain muttered under his breath.
“But so help me, if you tell our parents…” she continued.
Alain gave Gratia a confused look when the girl fell silent and turned around to peer into the trees behind them. At length, Alain asked. “Gratia, what…”
“Shhh,” she hissed, holding up a hand for silence.
Then, Alain heard it, the clatter of armour coming swiftly up behind them. One of the King’s men, no doubt. He thought about running deeper into the forest, but what would the point be? He could be bringing good news from home. Soon, Randal appeared on the path and waved when he saw them.
“What are you kids up to?” he asked, beaming toothily. “Not plotting to sneak onto this expedition, I trust?”
Alain’s jaw dropped. Had they been speaking loud enough for him to hear?
“Please,” Randal laughed. “I too was once a youth with delusions of grandeur, even if it was decades ago.”
“Will you take us with you?” Gratia asked hopefully. “Then there won’t be any sneaking necessary. I have the finest sword arm for miles around, ask anyone.”
“I’m sure you are, young lady,” Randal said politely. “But I’m afraid I bring news quite to the contrary.”
Alain’s heart sank and the white clad warrior turned his gaze to him. “After telling your father you would be dead set on joining this expedition with or without his permission, your father agreed to lead it with one condition.”
“What is it?” Alain asked, having a sinking suspicion as to what it was.
“I am to stay here and ensure you don’t follow after him,” Randal replied.