Dai'Sehen

By Raymond Jennings

Reshania - the most progressive land of the Northern Countries has been at peace for almost 100 years. Its enlightened attitudes earn respect from some, and its size and wealth garner fear and envy from others. However, the times are changing. A threat is growing on its southern border. An alliance of the nations of Jalhat, Forenze and Mantrainer, led by the ambitious King Hansett Laughlon of Mantrainer, seek to take Reshania's wealth for themselves. Standing in their way is the fiery-tempered Queen Jezzalia Terrantis. Not only is she queen of Reshania, but she wields a powerful sehen ability. Jezzalia is not without her own supporters, notably her half-sister, the scheming and wily Princess Shazzelle, but even this formidable pair may not be able to stand against their enemies. They need help, and help sometimes comes from unexpected quarters, such as the small village of Willow Ford and one Sethalis Fielder...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Raymond Jennings
• Release date: Oct 9, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463543689

Raymond Jennings

Raymond Jennings was born and raised in England. He studied Applied Physics at Lancashire Polytechnic and worked in the British civil service for twenty years before moving to Tucson, Arizona where he now lives with his wife and their two cats.His interests include science (with a special emphasis on space exploration), military history, war-gaming (most notably Advanced Squad Leader) and travelling.

Book preview

Lakkash, capital city of Mantrainer: Year of the Light 383

Despite being the middle of the night, the throne room was in an uproar with soldiers dashing in and out. Orders were shouted, almost hysterically, and the troops hurried to carry them out, sometimes colliding with each other and adding to the chaos. Anger and tension were palpable as people came and went in confusion. One man paced back and forth in front of the throne; apparent fury written on his face as senior officers reported to him.

There’s no sign of the assassins as yet, Your Highness, but they can’t have gotten far, said a captain to the pacing man, anxious to reassure him. We’ll have them soon.

The report was met with a back-handed slap across the face. Incompetent fool! My brother and his family lay dead and all you can tell me is that the scum responsible can’t have gotten far? raged Prince Hansett Laughlon of Mantrainer. They should never have been allowed to carry out their vile crime, let alone escape. I want them found before sunrise or you’ll be hanging from a gibbet, Captain. Now get out there and search instead of giving me useless information!

Bowing in fear, the captain turned and hurried from the room, snapping his fingers at his soldiers, indicating that they should follow. Hansett watched the man’s departure with a glower, his eyes glinting dangerously in the lamplight. A movement at the rear of the hall caught his attention. Standing near the door to the king’s private audience room was Jessof, Hansett’s most trusted servant. With a last glare around the room, Hansett strode to meet Jessof and gestured him into the audience chamber.

Well? he demanded of Jessof, once the man had shut the door behind them.

The assassins are dead just as you ordered, Your Majesty, replied Jessof, with a bow.

Hansett smiled at his underling’s form of address. Good. And their bodies won’t be found?

Not before the world breaks open, Your Majesty, Jessof assured him. Evidence has been placed to suggest Reshanian involvement, but not enough to put before a court of law.

Excellent! declared Hansett in satisfaction. The rumor and suspicion will serve us better than an outright accusation which might be disproved. You’ve done well, Jess. Now the crown is mine at last, he gloated. For years I lived in my brother’s shadow, being thrown scraps from his table to placate me, thought Hansett. Now I have it all and I’ll show the world what a true king looks like.

Chapter One

Camanden, capital city of Reshania: Year of the Light 402

Bennat moved to stand behind the woman staring moodily out of the rain-flecked window, putting his arms around her. Now what’s got you looking so down, my poppet? he asked, kissing the raven-haired woman behind the ear.

Irritably, the young woman shrugged him away. I hate this stupid weather! Jezzalia declared, picking up a half-finished glass of mulled wine from a nearby side-table. I wish it were spring again.

Sitting by the fireplace, her hands occupied with needlework, Missanne, Jezzalia’s maid, winced as Bennat ignored the warning signs and embraced the young woman again.

Don’t be like that, poppet, Bennat said in a honeyed tone. What you need is fun to take your mind off the nasty rain. He kissed her neck once more.

The woman struggled against his embrace, wine sloshing from the glass she still held. I need nothing of the sort. Now let me go, you oaf.

Bennat tightened his grip. If you carry on like this, Jezzi, I’ll have to put you over my knee and spank you, he warned her, having misread her genuine irritation for the play-acting they sometimes engaged in.

The maid edged back a little, trying to make sure that she wasn’t caught in the explosion she could sense coming.

Spank me? Jezzalia screeched, elbowing Bennat to make him release her. She turned to face him, slamming the wine glass down on the small table, splashing some of its contents onto her hand and further increasing her annoyance. You lay a hand on me and you won’t live to regret it! The nearby wall hangings trembled a little as Jezzalia’s wrath grew.

You’re just being childish, Jezzi, Bennat chided her, and bad girls get spanked. He took a step towards the young woman, his hands reaching out for her once more.

You… you lackwit! screamed Jezzalia, furious at Bennat’s lack of awareness. You’ll never lay hands on me again!

Even as she said it, Bennat grasped her arm. Jezzalia unleashed her pent-up frustration and anger in one burst of power and Bennat flew across the room to crash into a cabinet, smashing the valuable ornaments on display inside. A second flash of force picked him up once more and thrust him against the remains of the cabinet, completing its destruction. Unconscious, Bennat collapsed in a tangled heap amongst the wreckage.

Jezzalia strode to a silken bell-pull and tugged on it. Moments later, two guards appeared through a door. They bowed respectfully to her.

Your Majesty? one inquired, studiously ignoring the debris and man littering the floor.

Get that cretin out of here, Her Royal Majesty, Queen Jezzalia Terrantis hissed, waving a hand at where Bennat lay. I never want to see him again.

Yes, Your Majesty, said the guard, and the pair dragged Bennat from the room in compliance with their queen’s orders.

By the fireplace, Missanne sighed. Although she hadn’t particularly liked Bennat, she hoped he wasn’t too badly hurt. Another companion gone, Missanne thought.

Men are so stupid! declared Jezzalia, still fuming as she poured herself some more wine. I never want another companion for as long as I live!

I give you six months, thought Missanne, wisely keeping her opinion to herself.

Willow Ford, Reshania: Year of the Light 402

The clack of wooden practice swords rattled around the Willow Ford village square. Over a score of young men and women were engaged in arms training in the bright, cool, spring day. Puddles from the previous day and night’s rainfall dotted the area, causing curses when a foot slipped in one. Most of the men and women were youths between the ages of fourteen to eighteen. For them, attendance was mandatory by law, three days out of every ten, for an hour a day. In an emergency, they were expected to aid the local militia. There were some older men and women at practice; a few were continuing their training with thought of joining the militia or army, others attended because they enjoyed the form of exercise and wished to keep in practice to be able to defend themselves if required. Dotted amongst these were the members of the Willow Ford village militia, there to provide instruction for the trainees. Wandering amongst them all was Sergeant Hankel Pederson, head of the village militia. As he made his rounds, he offered useful instruction to those he observed.

Not like that, you idiot! You’ll get yourself brained, Hankel shouted in disgust at one young woman before showing her the correct way to make the block being practiced. Thus chastened, the youth adjusted her stance and tried again. Hankel watched for a moment and then grunted his approval. Better.

The sergeant moved off to continue his inspection before stopping to watch one of his constables spar with a brown-haired young man. The youth wasn’t quite as tall or heavily muscled as some of those in the square, but he was by no means a weakling, demonstrating the strength of all those that worked the land. The little he lacked in muscle was more than made up for in speed and sureness; his blows were carefully aimed rather than the repeated hacking of most others in training. He landed two hits in quick succession, causing the militia man to jump back, cursing and rubbing an arm. Even with the wooden swords they were using, everyone wore padded jerkins and thick leather caps for protection. The blows still hurt if they connected.

Blast you, Seth! he cursed. I’m supposed to be training you.

Sorry, Tom, apologized Sethalis contritely. Be I catching you badly?

Thomas shook his arm experimentally with a grimace. Nay, it’s just numb. It’ll be ok in a minute.

Hankel snorted in amusement. Looks like you need more training, Tom, not Seth here.

Sourly, Thomas eyed the smiling Pederson. Yeah? I don’t see you sparring with Seth, Sarge. Why don’t you show me how it’s done?

Hankel nodded and took up position facing Sethalis. Ready for a proper workout, lad?

Setting his feet, Sethalis smiled back, his green eyes dancing with anticipation. Ready when you be, Sergeant.

The two men circled each other for a few moments before Pederson launched his attack. His sword was met by Sethalis’ and the two men swung, blocked and parried for a while, neither gaining the upper hand. Then Hankel faked a kick towards Sethalis’ knee. Instead of jumping back, Sethalis stepped into the kick, catching Hankel’s shin and knocking the sergeant off-balance. Instantly, Sethalis struck with his sword. Hankel managed to block the blow a bare half-inch from his upper arm and he staggered back to take up guard again.

You be using that one once too often, Sergeant, Sethalis informed him with a chuckle.

Hankel growled and moved forward to attack once more; Thomas watching in amusement. During the exchange, each man scored hits on the other and when the temple bell rang out signaling the eleventh hour, Sethalis was ahead, four touches to two. The pair separated and Sethalis bowed to Hankel, who nodded in return.

Alright everyone, get washed up and start collecting up the gear, Hankel shouted, his voice ringing out through the square. As people moved to obey, Hankel clapped Sethalis on the shoulder. You’re getting too good, lad.

Thankee, Hank, replied Sethalis, dropping the formality now that practice was over. You be a good teacher.

With Thomas following, the pair went to the well where two troughs stood alongside. One had a red-painted rim, signifying a wash trough, the other had a green rim for drinking water. Both troughs were full because of the recent early spring rainfall. Sethalis splashed water on his face and hair before moving to the green trough to take a drink.

How’s your family doing? Hankel inquired of him as they stripped off their padded jerkins

They be doing fine, replied Sethalis, adding his jerkin, sword and cap to the pile of gear. Some of the youngsters were already ferrying the gear to the militia house for storage.

Despite the casual tone, Hankel could see the worry that Sethalis displayed on his face. Aye, well, that’s good, he lied, knowing the desperate straits Sethalis’ family were in. You off to the priestess for your lesson, now?

Aye, nodded Sethalis. Need to be keeping up with my studies. With a last nod to Hankel, Sethalis turned and walked away westwards, towards the village temple.

On the far side of the village green, the temple was the largest building in Willow Ford, its domed roof a landmark for those approaching the village. The white stone of the walls and roof glistened in the late morning sunlight. The temple provided a place of worship to all the Reshanian gods, although the current village priestess was a devotee of Marrath, the water goddess. On All Gods Day, the last day of the week, the villagers would gather in the temple in the morning and offer prayers to the gods and goddesses. Afterwards, weather permitting, families would wander around the green and the square, mingling with their neighbors and exchanging news and gossip. The Black Bull, the inn on the northside of the green, supplied the libations that fueled the chatter. Crossing the damp grass, Sethalis glanced over at the inn and received a wave from Suesanne, the inn-keeper’s daughter, as she swept the doorstep, preparing for the midday trade. Smiling, he returned the wave. Suesanne and he had occasionally frolicked in the inn’s hayloft on festival nights. The memories made Sethalis a little sad, wondering if she expected more from him, promises that he could no longer give. I hope I be not betraying her, Sethalis thought as he stepped off the grass and crossed the road to the temple. The wicket gate in the main temple doors was ajar and Sethalis pushed it further open, passing through to the nave of the temple. Simple wooden benches were arranged in rows either side of the main aisle and Sethalis paused at the first of these benches to bow his head and then make the sign of the star as a genuflection to the gods. With his first and second fingers, he touched first his forehead, right shoulder, stomach, left shoulder and finally his forehead once more, picking out the points of the diamond star that represented the pantheon. As he completed the gesture, his eyes went up to the interior of the dome where the likenesses of the gods were depicted. Gahn and his wife, Trier, the father and mother of the gods, sat above the altar facing the door and looked down on the congregation. Arrayed to either side of them were their sons and daughters, overseeing their human children. The base of the dome was ringed with windows to provide light for the frescos. Sethalis remembered sitting there as a child before the service and reciting the names of the gods to show his parents that he had been dutifully studying his lessons. That seemed many years ago and he had more important matters to think about now. Silently, he sent a prayer to Gahn and Trier, asking for guidance and then he walked down the aisle to the lone figure sitting on one of the front benches. Respectfully, he stopped a few paces from the woman and then bowed his head when she looked up at him.

Priestess, murmured Sethalis, I be asking for your blessing.

The blonde-haired woman smiled up at him as she stood, her dark-grey robes rustling, the blue wave pattern at the hems seeming to ripple. Nannette Simmione reached out her hand and placed it on Sethalis’ head. You have my blessing as always, Seth, and that of the gods and goddesses, too. She withdrew her hand and gestured to the bench. Why don’t we sit? I heard everyone out there practicing this morning. If only I could convince Hank to make you all strike in time, the sound of the swords would make a pleasant rhythm to aid my meditation.

Sethalis chuckled at her wistful tone. I be thinking Hank would be most mithered if we did that, Priestess. He’d be saying our attacks be far too predictable.

Nannette smiled in response. That’s true and I wouldn’t dare to try and teach him his business. Now her expression became somber. How is your father today?

He be tired and dozing when I be leaving the farm this morning, Sethalis admitted sadly. The pain be wearing away at him.

I’m sorry to hear that, replied Nannette, not that she’d been expecting any other answer. And the rest of your family?

Sethalis could only shrug his shoulders. They be working hard, preparing the fields for planting. Ma has an idea that might improve the sugar beet crop a little and earn us some more coin.

Well, that’s good to hear, Nannette said cheerfully, despite knowing small measures such as that wouldn’t help the family. You deserve some change in fortune. Are you ready to start your lessons?

Basic schooling ended for most at age sixteen, by which time they were expected to read and write. Sethalis had continued coming to the priestess for instruction because of his magic, or sehen, ability. About one in ten of the population had some level of sehen. For the vast majority, their power was insignificant and of minor use, such as the ability to light a candle or stir a small breeze. For a very few, their powers were much more significant. Sethalis rated as a major sehen, not the most powerful, but enough to be a serious force. Only he, his parents, and the priestess were aware of the extent of his powers or that he had powers at all. Initially, sehen users were taught to focus their powers with words and gestures; manifesting their abilities through little verses and hand movements. As they progressed, the more adept learned how to use their sehen with less need for vocalization and physical gestures. The true masters could act without any preamble, giving their opponents no warning of incoming spells. Only the glow of their sehen aura would give other sehen a clue as to what they were facing. The more powerful the sehen, the brighter the aura visible to other sehen users. Sethalis was different, there was no aura to betray his abilities, abilities he now intended to use to save his family.

Sethalis shook his head. I’d be liking to talk, if I might, Priestess?

Alright, Seth, Nannette agreed. What’s on your mind?

I be deciding to go to Camanden, he declared. The capital of Reshania, Camanden lay nearly two hundred and fifty miles to the east.

Nannette let out a sigh. It was as she had feared. I really wish you wouldn’t, Seth. I know the situation seems hopeless, but something will turn up. The gods provide. Her tone sounded less than convinced.

Looking straight into her eyes, Sethalis shook his head once more. There be no time left, Priestess. The first of the promissory notes be due at High Summer. Once the first be called in, the rest of the lenders will be flocking in like crows on a battlefield. The farm will be seized to cover the debts, and my family will be having nothing. He gave her a bleak smile. Maybe the gods want me to be the one to provide.

Although Sethalis’ family owned a large spread, they had borrowed heavily against it in the recent years. Rodrain, his father, had fallen seriously ill and when he had failed to recover, the family had spent money on doctors and medicines to make him well. None had worked, and the gold had flowed out of the family coffers until they had started borrowing, despite Rodrain’s protests. Now, no one would lend more, and the debts were soon to become due, nearly four hundred gold coin.

I not be wanting to do this, Priestess, but I not be knowing of any other way. Be you? Sethalis challenged her.

Nannette stared helplessly at him and then gave a shake of her head in defeat. No, Seth, I don’t, but indenture? That’s a hard road.

Rehsania’s indenture system was designed to help those who had fallen on hard times. People could indenture themselves for a set period to cover their debts and be free again when that period was up. No debts could be passed on to children and the children themselves could not be indentured. There were also strict laws governing the care of indentured servants, and anyone caught mistreating such a servant was liable for a hefty fine along with the release of the indentured person.

With your skills, you could earn the money in a few years, Nannette pointed out

I be knowing that, but my family be needing the money now, not in a few years, countered Sethalis. And my choices be not great with the amount of money I need. Where can I go? Duchess Trefain? Trefain was the district governor. I be not knowing her well enough to say that she not be misusing my powers. The Brotherhood of Sleep? Again, he shook his head. To work as an assassin with no say as to who I might be having to kill. I not be doing it, Priestess, my soul not be letting me. Nannette nodded her approval of this. It has to be the palace. You be saying that Princess Shazzelle is a good person.

She was when we were at school together, agreed Nannette. I don’t think she’s changed much since then, despite the pressures of state, but I could be wrong.

Sharing the same mother, Shazzelle and Queen Jezzalia were half-sisters. Shazzelle’s father had died in a hunting accident when she was two years old. Her mother, Countess Narrelle, was a famed beauty throughout the land. After a year of mourning, Narrelle had been wooed by King Greggan, and the two fell in love and were quickly married. Shazzelle had been raised by Greggan as if she was his blood-daughter, being named a princess of the realm. In turn, Shazzelle loved her stepfather and learned the intrigues of politics at his knee, showing a great aptitude for the subject even whilst young. Three years later came more joyous news as Greggan and Narrelle announced that they were with child. The realm of Reshania held its breath, waiting for the heir to be born. The event was marked with tragedy. There were complications with the birth, and it became a choice of saving mother or child. Narrelle didn’t hesitate and gave her last orders to the mid-wives. With her last breath, Narrelle kissed and named her baby, and Jezzalia Terrantis was born. Jezzalia was a comfort to her bereaved father and half-sister, and the pair doted on Jezzalia, perhaps not being as strict as they should have been. On the death of King Greggan, some ten years ago, Princess Shazzelle had become the regent for Jezzalia, a post she had relinquished a few years back when Jezzalia had reached her majority. Now she worked as Queen Jezzalia’s most trusted advisor. Some whispered that she was the power behind the throne.

My other choices be all poor, Sethalis pointed out. This be seeming like the best of a bad lot.

Nannette studied Sethalis for a minute and realized that she wasn’t going to change his mind. Alright, Seth, if you’re determined to do this, I’ll provide you with a letter of introduction that will hopefully allow you to talk to the princess directly. You’ll have to give up all your secrets to her if you want enough gold, though. Sethalis nodded his understanding. Have you told your family what you plan?

I be talking it over with Ma and Pa, Sethalis admitted reluctantly.

And what did they say?

They be against it, confessed Sethalis.

I wouldn’t expect anything else, said Nannette. When do you plan to leave?

Tomorrow, Sethalis informed her somberly. I be having everything ready for a week now. I just be needing to pack some food for the journey.

Stop by here on your way and I’ll have the letter ready for you, Nannette said unhappily, her blue eyes sad.

Aye, Priestess, replied Sethalis, kneeling before her for a parting blessing.

Once more, Nannette placed her hand on his head. Go in peace with the gods, Seth.

Leaving the temple, Sethalis looked over to the inn. Suesanne had disappeared, but there were two wagon teams tied up outside now. One of the teams was missing a horse and Sethalis’ eyes went to the smithy, just beyond the inn. Sure enough, Alfreid, the village smith, was examining the hoof of a horse as a teamster gestured towards the animal. Both the inn and the smithy benefitted from the trade that the Great West Highway brought through the village. The road began in far off Camanden, passed through the town of Lyend and then Willow Ford before continuing into the neighboring kingdom of Terranio. Sethalis had never travelled the road for more than a few miles in either direction, but tomorrow he would start out on a journey that would take him along the highway to Camanden. It seemed an impossibly long way, however it was a journey he would have to take for the sake of his family. With a sigh, Sethalis turned to his right and walked down the road that led south from the village and to his family’s farm. As he walked, he decided that the only people that would know of his plan would be his parents. The rest of the family and the farm hands didn’t need to get their hopes up. After all, even if he made it to Camanden, there was no guarantee that the princess would see him, let alone buy his service. Mayhap the priestess’s letter will be helping, Sethalis hoped as he trudged down the lane to his home. Approaching the farm, he could see the workers leaving the nearer fields to return to the farmhouse for lunch. Those working the more distant tracts of land would have bundled up a lunch to take with them this morning. The courtyard was busy with workers coming and going. Most were congregated around the well, washing up ready to eat. A few shouted greetings to Sethalis as he entered the yard. Absently, Sethalis waved back as he took a minute to survey the farm buildings. Shabby, he thought to himself. There were a lot of repairs needed, and more than a few makeshift repairs were visible as well. It was a far cry from how he remembered the farm just a few years before. His parents had been most meticulous about seeing to the maintenance in good time by craftsmen from the village. Then, as the money had run out, repairs had become more haphazard and slipshod as the farmhands did what they could with what was available. The state of his home saddened him and strengthened his determination to travel to Camanden. With a last look around the yard, Sethalis joined the flow of workers into the dining hall. Here too was a reminder of the state of affairs as he took his seat at the family table. The food was not quite as plentiful as it had once been, and the dishes were simpler. The food was still good, but it lacked the touches it once had. His mother entered, with his sister on her heels and everyone stood in respect. Sharlotte, Sethalis’ mother, drew up behind her chair and offered grace once everyone was still.

We thank the gods for providing us our meal and we pray for those who have less than us. We ask the gods to show their mercy to the sick, the poor and the hungry, Sharlotte Fielder intoned solemnly. Praise the gods.

There was a murmur of ‘praise the gods’ in return before people reseated themselves and began to eat.

The chair between Sethalis and Sharlotte was empty, Sethalis noted sadly. Evidently his father hadn’t felt well enough to join them again. Taking two slices of ham and cutting a wedge of cheese from the block in front of him, Sethalis began to serve himself.

How be your lessons going today, Seth? inquired Sharlotte, brushing back a strand of her light-brown hair from her forehead.

They be going well, Ma, replied Sethalis, adding some pickled vegetables to his plate. Hank says I be better than him now.

Sitting opposite Sethalis, Billath looked excited. I can’t be waiting until I be training with the militia, he announced. His fourteenth birthday was only a few months away.

Sethalis smiled fondly at his brother. We be seeing if you be as excited when you have to be toting the gear to and from the square in the rain.

This drew a chuckle from Maddelein. Aye, I be remembering those days all too well and I don’t miss ‘em.

That be just as well, Maddy, said Sethalis with a grin. You be having other concerns now. He nodded to the baby sitting in his sister’s lap.

The little boy gurgled and flailed his arms around as Maddelein tried to feed her child. Franklen, Maddelein’s husband, filled his wife’s plate with food, making sure that she was served before he began to eat. Maddelein was a few years older than Sethalis and it would be she who inherited the farm… if it was still there for her. Sethalis was determined that it should be, both for his sister and his nephew when it came his time to take over. All around the dining hall, people ate, talked and laughed, enjoying the food and company. Underneath it all, Sethalis could detect the worry; the farm hands worried what would happen to them come High Summer and Sethalis’ family worried about everything. He knew that his mother cared almost as much about the farm workers as she did her own family. It would break her heart to see them forced to leave, just as it would her children. That not be happening, Sethalis vowed to himself.

After lunch, Sethalis followed his mother from the hall and into the study that served as the farm’s record room. It was here that Sharlotte conducted all the farm’s business; meeting buyers, paying wages and maintaining the accounts. He waited until she was seated and then took one of the chairs opposite her.

You be having that look on your face that says you’ve decided something, said Sharlotte before Sethalis could speak.

Sethalis shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Aye, Ma. I be talking to Priestess Simmione after training. She still not be having any other ideas, so I’ve decided to go to Camanden and seek indenture at the palace, he admitted.

Please don’t do this, boy, Sharlotte begged him. We be working something out. We need you here. Tears formed in her grey eyes.

I be sorry, Ma, but as it stands, I be no use here, he replied, shaking his head. I be telling you what I told the priestess, if you be having a better idea or any idea, then I’ll stay. He waited as his mother stared helplessly at him. Aye, I’ve got none either and I be wanting this to remain Maddie’s home and her little un’s in turn. I be the only one who can save the farm now and I mean to try my hardest to do so.

Sharlotte realized that there was no dissuading her son. Slumping in her seat, she nodded in surrender. When will you go?

Tomorrow, declared Sethalis firmly. I be having all my things packed. All I be needing is some travel food. Tonight, I be telling the family that I’m leaving.

Will you tell them everything? his mother asked softly.

Sethalis considered this a moment before shaking his head. Nay, no sense in getting their hopes up.

Are you going to tell your da?

Aye, said Sethalis. I be doing that now.

Rodrain was sitting up in bed, dozing, when Sethalis entered the bedroom. A half-touched lunch sat on the night stand next to the bed. His father roused as Sethalis closed the door.

Oh, it’s you Seth, Rodrain said with a wheeze. What time is it?

Just after lunch, Da, and you be really needing to eat more, Sethalis answered, sitting on the bed.

Rodrain let out a weak snort. Not much use for food these days, lad. Don’t do enough to need it.

Sethalis took his father’s hand. There was little strength in it now, a pale shadow of the man that had worked hard to increase the farm in Sethalis’ youth. Rodrain’s face was grey and sunken, the cheeks hollow as the sickness ate away at him. It broke Sethalis’ heart to see his father like this.

You be getting better, Da, Sethalis assured him. Summer be here soon.

You’re no fool, Seth, and don’t think I’m one either, Rodrain chided him. Doubt I’ll make High Summer, never mind Deep Winter. He broke off into a series of wracking coughs that left him gasping for air.

Sethalis waited until his father had recovered his breath a little before telling him his plans. Da, I be leaving for Camanden in the morning. I be going to try and find the money to cover our debts.

Figure your ma already tried to talk you out of it? inquired Rodrain.

Aye, she and the priestess both, admitted Sethalis. They not be having any other ideas, though.

I don’t like it, either, but you do what you need to, Seth. Rodrain feebly patted Sethalis’ hand. Maybe you can redeem us all and I can go into Issel’s arms in peace.

I be trying, Da, Sethalis assured him. With all of my heart.

Chapter Two

Early the following morning, Sethalis rode towards the village, his sister alongside him. The announcement after supper that he was leaving hadn’t gone down well. In a moment of anger and frustration, Maddelein had even accused him of deserting them to save his own hide. Her words had been halted by Sharlotte’s hand smacking her cheek. Their mother had never been a woman of violence and the echo of the slap around the parlor had given everyone pause. In that moment of shock, sense had returned, and apologies ensued; Maddelein for accusing Sethalis, Sharlotte for striking her daughter, and Sethalis for leaving. Maddelein’s company on this first part of the journey was by way of a further apology to Sethalis. He only had to see the expression on Maddelein’s face to know that his sister was still very upset. His mother had wanted Sethalis to take a horse and ride to the capital, but he had insisted that the farm needed every remaining horse for the last of the spring plowing. A lot of their horses had been sold off already to raise coin for essentials, and now there were none to spare. Sethalis had agreed to take a horse as far as the village and Maddelein had volunteered to ride with him and return the horse.

You don’t have to be doing this, Seth, Maddelein offered quietly as the village came into sight in the grey dawn haze. There be no way you can earn enough money in time to save us, not honestly, anyways. She still wasn’t aware that he planned to indenture himself.

Sethalis sighed at the all too familiar argument. I know what I be doing, Maddy, and I swear that I’ll be breaking no laws.

Defeated by his tone, Maddelein gave a little sniffle. At least let’s go to the bridge together, she suggested. The bridge over the Willow Stream was a half-mile past the village.

I be fine at the temple, Sethalis assured her. I be needing to see the priestess first, and you be needing to get back to give my nephew his breakfast. He gave her an encouraging smile.

Frank be quite capable of looking after Jon for a morning, replied Maddelein dismissively, although Sethalis noted that she glanced worriedly back in the direction of the farm. He tried not to smile at having successfully diverted her attention.

As they made their way through the outskirts of the village, some people were already stirring. A few who were out, waved to the pair as they trotted past. At the center of the village, The Black Bull was bustling as usual with teamsters preparing their wagons, and travelers taking an early breakfast prior to a long day’s journeying. Sethalis and Maddelein reined their horses to a halt in front of the temple. Dismounting, Sethalis motioned for Maddelein to stay seated as she made to follow.

Be no need to waste time, Sethalis told her. I be fine here, and I not be knowing if the priestess be ready for me. Go on back and give Jon a hug from me.

Maddelein bent and held out her hand to her brother. Sethalis took it, pressing it against his cheek and kissing the back of it. Be safe, Seth, and come back to us soon.

Sethalis smiled at her, but his eyes were bleak. As soon as I can, Maddy. I be thinking of you all every day, he promised, unhooking his pack from the saddle. Then he handed Maddelein the reins of his horse. Now shoo, or we’ll both end up crying and making a sight of ourselves.

Nodding, Maddelein took the reins, blew him a kiss and led his horse around. She heeled her horse into a trot and headed back down the south lane, casting glances behind her. Sethalis waved back for a few minutes, then hefted his pack and entered the temple.

Nannette was an early riser, too, and Sethalis found her sweeping out the nave alongside one of her acolytes. Upon seeing Sethalis, she propped her broom up against a bench and beckoned him forward.

I was hoping I wouldn’t see you today, she said after blessing Sethalis, but you always were determined. Follow me to my office. Sethalis did as he was instructed and entered the room behind Nannette. The study was lined with shelves filled with books and in the center of the room was a large desk. It was here that all births, deaths and marriages for Willow Ford were recorded. On the desk were two sealed letters; Nannette picked them up and held out one of them to Sethalis.

This is a general letter of introduction for Princess Shazzelle, began Nannette, handing the letter to Sethalis. It’s addressed to her personally and so no one else should open it. If any one does, it only contains a simple introduction and description of you along with a suggestion that the princess talk to you. Don’t feel above suggesting to anyone that you hand it to that it’s magically sealed and anyone other than the princess opening it can expect dire consequences. Sethalis chuckled at Nannette’s mischievous tone. Nannette handed him the second letter. This is far more detailed about who and what you are. You should only give this to the princess with your own hand. I wouldn’t advise letting anyone else see it.

Sethalis