In The Prince's Secret Service - 5. Warriors of the Light

The dying sun cast a ruddy glow into the common room of the Wooden Troll. Patrick and Alan sat with Thom at a table they thought of as their own.

Albert, the publican, had set out a buffet supper. The stable boy came in, wiping his hands on the farrier’s apron he wore. “Two guests. They said they’d put their horses up, and then be in. Nice horses. I’ve set out the lantern and closed the gate. Supper ready?”

The publican nodded. The stable boy hung his apron on a nail by the door, picked up a plate, and helped himself to the buffet of meat, cheese, bread, and fruit.

Patrick, Alan, and Thom had earlier served themselves, and were eating when the two guests of which the stable boy spoke came in. The first was a Human with shining, curly black hair, and piercing black eyes. A young tween, he was dressed plainly, but there was a glint of chain armor under his overtunic. He wore a longsword, and carried a pack.

The second was a boy, tall and slender. The shape of his green eyes and of his face, and…yes, of his ears, revealed as he turned his head to examine every corner of the room…showed recent Elven ancestry. He, too, wore a long sword and carried a pack. Patrick thought he saw a brief, actinic blue-white glint when the pack swung in just the right orientation. Something of power, something of the Light, was in there.

“Welcome, young sirs,” Albert, the publican said. “As the stables are to your horses’ liking, your room will be to yours. And only three shillings for the night. Supper included,” he added as he saw the look on the older boy’s face.

“Father, you’ve never gotten more than a shilling for a room, even though you’ve cleaned this place up since I was kidnapped,” Thom said. Turning to James, he added, “The custom is a shilling apiece, plus thruppence for your horses.

“That’s my son, give the place away, he would,” grumbled Albert. “Two shillings thruppence, then.”

“Please, get your supper and sit with us,” Patrick invited, as James counted the coins into the publican’s hands.

While the boys ate, they introduced themselves and tentatively explored one another’s history. James did not want to reveal that he and Kenneth were Clerics, and had a hard time saying anything without lying. “We’re not really looking for work right now,” James concluded, “but we wouldn’t turn down the right task, either. We’ll stick around here for a while, get a feel for what’s going on, and decide whether to stay or try another town. What about you?”

“Well,” Patrick said, also reluctant to say too much about his companions and himself, “We recently brought some horses up from a farmstead south of town to be sold in the market here. And sometimes there’s work in a warehouse. Not much of a job. Like you, we’re not really looking for work, but we’d take the right task, if it were offered.”

“I hope you don’t mind my asking,” James said to Thom, “but you said you’d been kidnapped. What did you mean?”

Thom’s voice was flat. “Nearly two years ago there was a brigand raid on Fortmain. I was at the edge of the market, near the southern gate. Like the fool that I am, I stood beside the road, better to see. As the brigands galloped out of town, one grabbed me, threw me across his saddle, and took me along. I lived two years in a cave, chained to the wall, shoveling horse-shit and eating oats and whatever I could beg from the brigands until Patrick and Alan rescued me…”

“I’m sorry, Thom,” James said softly. “I’m sorry that happened to you, and I’m sorry my question caused you pain.”

“Thank you, but don’t be sorry. I invited the question, and I’ll get over it. Patrick and Alan are helping me…” the boy’s voice drifted off.

There was an uncomfortable silence at the table until Kenneth asked, “Just east of town, on the Royal Road, we saw an old, stone windmill high on a steep hill above the road. It looked abandoned. There were no blades. Otherwise, it appeared to be intact. Why would anyone build a mill that is so hard to reach? How could you get a wagonload of grain up there?”

“That’s the magic mill,” Thom replied. His voice was a little more animated than usual. “It was built long ago, during the Great War, and the mill was used to grind magic, not grain. It’s haunted by the ghosts of ancient wizards and the boys they captured. We boys dared each other to go there, and to spend a night in the mill. I did. It was scary, but nothing happened. After that, I used to go there a lot.”

“Anyway,” the boy continued, “it’s a lot different from a regular mill…there’s one of those on the north side of town…there are no millstones, and no place for them. The shaft from the vanes just ends, in mid air…there are some holes in it…they look funny. Under the shaft is a deep well that goes down into the hill farther than I could see.” The boy grew silent again, but the mood of the table was no longer glum.

“Are those your horses in the stable?” James asked. “I especially like the big one with the stockings. Don’t think I’ve ever seen one like that, and we raise a lot of horses in Bowling Green.”

“That’s Dasher,” Alan said. “He’s was brought over the sea as a colt. My father bought him for me…” The topic of horses was a safe one, and occupied the boys until Kenneth began yawning, and he and James went off to their room.

Before going to sleep, Patrick asked Alan, “What did you think of James and Kenneth?”

Thom startled them both by speaking up. “James is nice. Even though he was across the table, it felt like he put his arms around me and hugged me when he said he was sorry for asking about me being kidnapped,” the boy said. “Kenneth’s pretty quiet. I don’t think he’s used to being in a second-rate inn, but he’d never say it.”

“James is probably a very proficient fighter,” Alan volunteered. “The boy—he looks like someone I once knew, but I can’t quite place him—he has a lot of self confidence. He’s probably good in the exercise yard, but I doubt he’s ever been in a real fight.”

Patrick summarized his thoughts, “I think Kenneth is a cleric. There’s something in his pack that glows too brightly and cleanly to be anything but something extremely Good…an icon, or something. James is probably his bodyguard. They’re traveling somewhere, perhaps to deliver the icon…or whatever it is…and aren’t really looking for work. I didn’t do any magic on them…if the boy is a cleric—an acolyte perhaps, he’d probably detect it. I’m going to wait a while, until they’re asleep, and then check.

As they prepared for bed, James asked Kenneth, “What did you think about the boys we met tonight?”

“The boy…Thom…he’s been hurt, badly. His aura is dark—not Evil dark, just dark. Alan…he’s a good looking boy. I met him, once, somewhere. He didn’t recognize me, though. Patrick’s a lot older than he looks. Almost certainly Firespear…that’s the Sept of the Royal Family, you know. I think he’s a mage…or a powerful innate magic user. Sometimes when he moved his fingers I could see sparks in the magic field.”

“You’re right about Thom,” James agreed. “I felt a lot of pain from him when he talked about being kidnapped. Did you catch the way he said, ‘…like the fool that I am…’? Sounds like he’s got a pretty low opinion of himself. Alan looks like he’d be a lot of fun…and a good person to have at your back in a fight, too. Patrick? I couldn’t read him. I didn’t want to invoke magic there…and if Patrick’s a mage, like you think, I’m glad I didn’t. I’ll wait a while…give them a chance to get to sleep…and try a Detect Darkness spell on them.”

Patrick, Alan, and Thom were in the common room when James and Kenneth came down the stairs the next morning. Patrick stood, and walked to greet them, smiling. James’ smile mirrored that of the tall Elf.

“You and Kenneth. You’re both clerics, are you not,” Patrick said softly to James.

“We are. And you’re a mage, sworn to the Light, are you not,” James replied.

“Yes. I knew that had to be you who pinged us last night. And of course, you knew it was I who pinged you back.” Patrick smiled. “We’ve been in such Evil company …scurvy company at best…for so long, I’m glad to see some Light around here.”

James nodded. “Kenneth and I have only recently left Arcadia, but we’ve seen enough Darkness in the recent past…Perhaps…no, that would be…no…” James’ voice broke off.

“Come. Sit with us and share breakfast. If we get to know one another better,” Patrick encouraged James, “then perhaps you will share whatever it is that you are thinking.”

Breakfast was long over before James finished narrating his and Kenneth’s adventures, including their commission from Alten. “So you see,” James concluded, “although we are clerics, we are not bound to any Temple, but are free to wander, earning our living as healers or in any lawful way, and promoting Light and fighting Darkness in any way we see fit. We are answerable to the cleric who sent us out, to our conscience, and to the Light, but to no one else.”

Alan, who had remained silent to this point, spoke. “Kenneth, your father is the Duke of Carter, isn’t he?” When the boy nodded, Alan said, “My father took me to your father’s estate on a hunting trip once. It was about twenty years ago. You were still a child and I had just become a tween. I remember you. I always hoped that we’d go back there after you became a boy, so that we might…well. Perhaps, now, you would share boy magic with me?”

Kenneth reached across the table to put his hand on Alan’s. “I knew yesterday that I’d seen you somewhere before, and now I remember, too. When you rode in on your horse, I thought you were the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen! I dreamed about you after that, you know. Yes, I’d like very much to share with you.”

Thom’s face screwed up with tears, and he darted from the table. Alan jumped up to follow the boy, gesturing for the others to remain.

“Thom is not yet entirely accustomed to freedom,” Patrick said to James and Kenneth. “Alan will calm and comfort him. I wish…well, in time…in time.”

“If there is anything we can do to help, please ask,” James said. “And that means you and Alan, too…not just Thom.”

“Thank you. I would like to tell you our story a little later. We usually tend the horses after breakfast. Alan and Thom may be a while…would you like to accompany me to the stables, now?”

*****

Alan caught up with Thom in the hallway leading to their room. The boy was standing at the door, as if uncertain whether to enter. Alan stood five yards away holding his arms outstretched. “Thom…Thom…please…come to me, please.”

Thom looked up, his body wracked with sobs. “Why? How could you promise that boy you just met that you’d share boy magic with him, when you won’t share with me? I owe you! I owe you! And you won’t let me pay! Every day I owe you more and more…”

“Thom, you owe me nothing. If there is a debt that you think you owe, I would consider it paid if you’d come to me and let me hold you while you cry.” Alan held out his arms, again. “Come, Thom. Please?”

The boy stepped into Alan’s embrace. The tween held Thom while the boy sobbed. When his body stopped shaking, Alan led him into the room and sat him at the table, pouring a mug of water from the pitcher on the nightstand.

“Here, Thom. Drink this. You lose more water in tears than I do in sweat!”

Thom giggled, but it was a false, nervous giggle. Nevertheless, he took the mug and eagerly gulped the water.

“Thom…there are a lot of reasons to have sex. Exchanging boy magic is one of them. Having fun is another. Because you love someone is another. I guess you think I was pretty casual asking to share with Kenneth…someone I saw once many years ago, and only met again last night. Maybe so. But Kenneth and I would both enjoy sharing, and it would be an equal exchange.

“Patrick and I share boy magic in an equal partnership because we love each other, and because it’s a lot of fun to share with Patrick—”

“But it’s not equal!” Thom interrupted. “Patrick’s all the time telling you what to do, and he makes all the rules…” Thom’s tirade ran down.

“It is equal. ‘Equal’ doesn’t always mean‘the same.’ Patrick doesn’t try to shoe a horse or track a deer; I don’t try to heal. He can do magic, but I am better than he is with a sword or a bow. I’m good at some things; he’s good at others. Maybe what I mean isn’t ‘equal’ but ‘balance.’ Patrick and I have balance. One is strong where the other is weak. I don’t think that there would be balance if you and I were to share boy magic.”

*****

The next afternoon, the boys sat on the ground under an oak tree. They had ridden a few miles north of town to exercise the horses, and to check out a young stallion Alan was considering buying for Thom. Alan had ridden the horse, and Thom had ridden Alan’s mount, the giant Dasher. Now they rested while the horses grazed on the tender grass. Thom sat close to Alan. The tween’s arm held the boy tightly.

“Alan and I met in Arcadia not quite a year ago,” Patrick said. “We didn’t know, at first, that we were destined to adventure together, but we left Arcadia for…well, we didn’t know, then. We got a job escorting a merchant to Fortmain, so we ended up, here. We heard about some caverns under the mountains south of Fortmain, and were exploring them when we found Thom. We’ve been pretty much sticking to Fortmain since then.”

Alan added his interpretation to what Patrick had said. “I fell in love with Patrick the first time I saw him. No, before that, when I heard him argue with my father…and win. I couldn’t see him, then, because one eye had been destroyed and both of them were bandaged shut. Patrick healed me…I would have died if he hadn’t.

“Patrick fell in love with me, then, too, but he wouldn’t admit it for nearly seven months. He couldn’t, you see, because he was my healer and I was his patient, and everybody knows that a healer and a patient can’t ever fall in love.” Alan looked at Patrick as he said this. His face betrayed his love for the Elf.

“It isn’t unusual, and it is a difficult situation,” James said. “A healer and his patient cannot share boy magic as long as that dependent relationship exists. It must have been hard on both of you.”

“When you said dependent did you mean unbalanced?” Thom asked, quietly.

“Yes, Thom, that’s a very good way of putting it. The healer has power over the patient; real power…the power of healing…and imagined power…the patient often feels as if he were dependent. The healer has power, and the patient does not. Calling it unbalanced is a good way of saying it,” James said.

*****

Alan and Thom continued to spar with the dulled practice swords, but now Thom had a new longsword and a poniard. Patrick and Alan had purchased the sword with a part of their finders’ fee from the Arcadian Merchants’ Guild. Alan was teaching Thom how to use the poniard in place of a shield.

“In the old wars, men used shields,” Alan explained. “Nowadays, most people use a dagger or poniard instead of a shield. It’s just as effective—if you know what you’re doing—and a lot lighter to carry.”

After a hot afternoon, Alan and Thom headed for the bathhouse where they stripped and begin showering the grime from their bodies.

“You got me a couple of good licks today, Thom,” Alan said as he scrubbed the boy’s hair. “We’re pretty evenly matched, now.”

Thom heard the words “evenly matched,” and turned around instantly. He looked Alan in the eye. “Alan, I had fun with you today. I have fun with you and Patrick every day. I hadn’t had fun in a long, long time before I met you. I didn’t like life, and I didn’t like me, either. Now, I like life, and I like me, and I like you and I want to share boy magic with you…I want to share…” The boy’s voice was firm.

“Thom,” Alan said, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask just that way. I want to share with you, too. And now, now we can.”

That evening, Patrick convened another meeting around the table. “Thom, Alan and I must go back to the place where we found you. There is a large cavern east of where you were, and we want to explore it. We should be able to avoid the brigands; it isn’t likely that they know that the rest of the cavern is there. We promised that we’d not leave you alone until you wanted us to,” Patrick said.

“If we do run into trouble, you can take care of yourself; you can contribute to our fighting strength; you can fight alongside us,” Alan added.

“We want you to be a part of our team; a companion in fact and not just in name,” Patrick continued.

Thom looked at Alan, who nodded. “Yes, Thom. We want you with us. We want you with us as a partner.”

After Patrick reviewed the mutual oaths that the three would take, and made sure that Thom understood why—even though he was a companion and a partner—that Patrick was the absolute leader of the three, Alan asked Thom to swear his oath.

“Thom, will you join us as a companion and fight for the Light? Will you accept Patrick as your liege and obey him and orders given in his name with your whole heart? Will you endeavor to learn from Patrick and from me? Will you be loyal to us in all things? Will you keep this oath unto death or until we agree to terminate it?”

Thom’s eyes filled with tears of happiness as he replied, “I will.”

Patrick asked Alan to swear, “Alan, will you accept Thom as a companion in our fight for the Light? Will you endeavor to protect him and provide for him, to teach him and to cherish him? Will you be loyal to him in all things? Will you keep this oath unto death or until we agree to terminate it?”

Alan took Thom’s hand and looked into the boy’s eyes as he said, “I will.”

Alan then asked Patrick, “Patrick, will you accept Thom as our companion in the fight for the Light? Will you endeavor to protect him, to provide for him, to teach him, and to cherish him? Will you be loyal to him in all things? Will you keep this oath unto death or until we agree to terminate it?”

Patrick took Thom’s other hand, and looked the boy in the eye. “I will,” he said.

Alan gave Thom a dagger. “Thom, I’ve never heard of a boy receiving a dagger from two boys at the same time, but…well, this is a gift from Patrick and from me.”

“There’s one more thing,” Patrick said. He explained to Alan and Thom what he had in mind. Both boys nodded agreement when he had finished. “Tomorrow morning, then,” Patrick said.

At breakfast, Patrick began the conversation. “James, you said you were free to fight the Dark in any way you saw fit. Alan and Thom and I have enlisted in the fight against Darkness…we were exploring an old fortress south of Fortmain…not a natural cavern…when we found Thom. We need to return there to ensure that it does not contain weapons or war materials or magics that that could be used for Evil. But we need the special skills of a cleric, we need more fighting strength. We need more eyes to see what ours may miss. We need Soldiers of the Light who will stand side by side and back to back with us in this fight against Evil, friends who will laugh with us, cry with us, live with us—and, if necessary, die with us.

“James, Kenneth…will you join us?”

James and Kenneth sat, stunned. But only for a moment. Kenneth turned to James and nodded.

*****

Caulden was pleased to have been asked to administer the oath. In the privacy of a small chapel, the companions gathered with only three other witnesses: Thom’s father; Durber; and Caulden’s Acolyte, Mark.

“James and Kenneth, will you join Patrick, Alan, and Thom as companions in a fight for the Light? Will you accept Patrick as your liege and obey him and orders given in his name with your whole heart? Will you be loyal to him in all things? Will you keep this oath unto death or until lawfully terminated?”

James and Kenneth answered, “I will.”

“Alan and Thom, will you accept James and Kenneth as companions in a fight for the Light? Will you be loyal to them in all things? Will you keep this oath unto death or until lawfully terminated?

Alan and Thom answered, “I will.”

“Patrick, as leader of the companions will you accept James and Kenneth as companions in a fight for the light? Will you guide and protect and cherish them? Will you be loyal to them in all things? Will you keep this oath unto death or until lawfully terminated?”

Patrick answered, “I will.”

That afternoon, the five companions moved into a single, large room at the Wooden Troll.

*****

The young cleric shook rain from his cloak and stamped his feet on the flagstones of the Wooden Troll. Brushing back his cowl, he looked around the room until he spotted a familiar face. James, who had finished his breakfast and was thinking of another mug of tea, smiled and waved the tween over.

“Mark, how are you? Will you have tea?” James asked.

“Yes, thank you,” the cleric answered. “Caulden sent me to invite you to lunch, but there’s plenty of time. You and Kenneth, that is,” he said by way of greeting.

Kenneth and James had departed with Mark, Caulden’s acolyte, when Durber walked in looking for Patrick. “Upstairs,” was the Publican’s automatic greeting. Durber was a frequent visitor.

Durber departed a scant half hour later, but he left with Patrick a magically sealed letter.

My Friends,

I was not surprised, nor was my good friend Alten surprised, to learn that you and Alan had met James and Kenneth, and become companions. Alten has vouchsafed these two youngsters to me, and I would like you to speak with them as you would with me. Likewise, discuss the business with Thom as you see fit.

Please continue to report on the competition you mentioned, and let me know what are their plans, and what resources they can bring to underbid us.

The amulet you sent has been examined, and your diagnosis of its worth confirmed. There will be no profit in trade in those goods. I’m pleased that you have closed this avenue.

The letter continued with nonsense that sounded very business-like, but which provided no more information.

“Well, what do you know about that,” Alan said after reading the letter. “He knows Alten and Alten knows James and Kenneth.”

“Ummm,” was all Patrick had to say as he disintegrated the letter.

At the Temple, Caulden greeted his guests warmly, and offered them mulled cider and seats by the fire. Although it was spring, it had been raining for two days, and the cold that accompanied the rain chilled the bones.

After several minutes of small talk and after the boys’ cloaks had stopped steaming as the rain evaporated in the warm room, Caulden handed James a letter. “This came for you in the post from Arcadia.”

James looked at the seal and noted that it was unbroken. Opening the letter, he read silently.

My Dear Young Friends,

I had a most interesting meeting last night with one of the most generous almoners in Arcadia, a merchant named Cadfael. At one point, the talk turned to his business in the south, and he mentioned that two of his close associates, Patrick and Alan, had met you and that you were now companions. I am gratified that you have found friends of like mind, and I urge you to be completely candid with these boys; Cadfael will write them with the same message.

Things in Arcadia continue as before…yours is the exciting life…

The rest of the letter was filled with gossip about various common friends.

James showed the letter to Kenneth, and then carefully put it into the fire.

After lunch, James and Kenneth hurried back to the Wooden Troll, to find Patrick walking toward the stairs with a pot of coffee. Taking mugs of tea, they followed him.

Patrick and James described the contents of the letters each had received. When they finished, Thom was the first to speak. “So, you two are working for the Senior Cleric of Arcadia, and you two are working for the prince’s chief spy. And now all of us are working for both of them. Is that right?” he asked.

“That sums it up very well, Thom,” Patrick said. James nodded.

“Is everyone comfortable with that? Does anyone see any problem with that?” Patrick asked.

“It seems that neither Alten nor Cadfael found any problems…they encouraged us to be open and candid with each other,” Kenneth said. “I see no conflict with my oath as a cleric, nor with the Oath James and I took to Patrick.”

James nodded his agreement.

“In that case,” Patrick said, “let us plan an expedition to the fortress.”