As they made their way slowly along the road, they were joined by passing peasants, some merchants and other assorted villagers, sometimes with their families and sometimes without. Hale could hardly answer all of the questions that were thrown at him and all of his questions for the peasants didn’t seem to make any sense to them. Hale was hoping that there would be someone in Paravol that would be able to answer at least some of his queries. He didn’t really expect much, though.
According to the peasants the ruler of Valorian, King Menran Sharn, would be delighted to see him. Hale certainly hoped so, since he was bringing a rather large mob into Paravol. There was some comedy to this. Who would have thought that a meandering jack-of-all-trades would end up being some mythological hero returned from the mists of time? Though these people all seemed like they had stepped out of some medieval fairy tale themselves.
The road wound through small hamlets and across orchards and fields. The country was very beautiful and the air was a nice change from the pollution that was found in some of the city outskirts that Hale had been to. It was obvious that the harvest was being collected as Hale could see haystacks, bushels of wheat and cartloads of apples and other fruits and vegetables all ready to be delivered or stored. As the group approached Paravol, there were more and more wagons heading towards the city gates. It was surprising that Hale and the group were overtaking so many since the mob wasn’t exactly speeding along.
Hale’s first glimpse of the city of Paravol was as the group crested a low hill. He had never seen anything like it before. Now he was sure that he must be somewhere in Europe. The city of Paravol was surrounded by a large wall that must have been some thirty to forty feet in height and broken here and there along its length by turrets and towers. Hale could see the glint of metal atop the walls and towers. It would appear that the wall was patrolled. For what though, Hale could only assume that it was either tradition or for tourists.
The city itself was sprawled across a large but low lying hill. He could easily see the tops of roofs and steeples of the larger more elaborate buildings. Situated snuggly at the top of the hill, was a large castle that was obviously the home of the King of Valorian, this Menran Sharn. Here and there along the towers of both the wall and the distant fortress on the rise, were flags and pennons brightly flapping in a light wind. There seemed to be a symbol of some sort of mythological beast on some of them and simple checkered colors on some of the others. It all made a very impressive sight of strength and prosperity.
Jolinis Arken, who was still with the steadily growing group, spoke loudly over the hum of conversations, “Milord, magistrate Urosil Korm has gone ahead to alert King Menran Sharn of your arrival. He will definitely wish to see you at once. Imagine how honored he will be!”
“Yeah, sure,” Hale muttered despondently. All he wanted at this point was a quick dinner and a long night’s rest. It didn’t look like that would be happening anytime soon.
“What was that, Milord?” Jolinis Arken looked concerned.
Hale gave the farmer a sardonic lopsided smile, “Nothing, Jolinis, nothing at all.”
The farmer smiled back, obviously relieved, “Good, we will be there shortly. I hope that you will find our hospitality worthy. And you may call me Arken Milord.”
“Oh I am sure that it will be,” Hale sighed, and then in a soft voice to himself, “Let’s get this over with.”
The group slowly continued towards the city of Paravol, Hale’s shoulders slumping in resignation.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Thanian was enjoying the sweetly scented afternoon breeze as he guided his horse through the tall grass of the meadow. He was almost home… no, not home. He had just left his home. It wasn‘t so much a home as it had once been, when it was filled with the sweet aroma of dinner cooking, his children‘s laughter and the brightness of his wife‘s smile.
No, he wasn’t returning to home, but to his kingdom’s castle. Though, it wasn’t much of a kingdom anymore either. Menran Torvil died a few years back and his young son had taken his place. The boy would never be a man in Thanian’s eyes, not the way he was behaving now. Menran Torvil had asked him personally to see to the welfare of Sharn personally. He knew his son was not ready to be king. He also knew his son had a penchant for anger, aggression and was rather hungry for power. But he had hoped with the help of Thanian, a most honorable man, as he often called him, Sharn would learn how to be a proper King.
Menran Torvil had not been the best of men and Kings. He had been, for the most part, a good and kindly man, but there had always been things Thanian had disagreed with, for instance how women were treated. Inside his home Thanian’s wife had always been his equal. Not only did he respect her opinions he had valued them. She was put to death 7 cycles back, for witchery. He had known a long time before they had married that she was a mage. It was nothing he felt ashamed over. But when his king. Menran Torvil, had sentenced her to death Thanian had done nothing.
There was nothing he regretted more. If he could go back in time he would have left his loyalty at the feet of his wife and her alone. He was always loyal to his king, to his own detriment, as well as his wife’s. He had promised her fragile body atop the Pyre that he would never let another suffer her same fate, that he would show Valorian the true way, somehow, someday. So, he stayed loyal to Valorian, not his king, but his country, and the people that lived within.
When Menran Torvil died, he took his seat upon Menran Sharn's council, he took his role there seriously. He would not allow Sharn to make the same mistakes his father had made towards the people. Even good men make mistakes, but mistakes can be, and must be, rectified.
Thanian topped the small rise at the end of the meadow and there before him sat the walls of Paravol city. He would go to his quarters, unpack, and rest a bit before he took over his duties as Captain. There was a huge crowd entering the main gates so Thanian headed up to the eastern gates that opened up directly to the inner bailey. He would bypass the crowd for now.
He wondered what the fuss was all about as he neared the gates. Harvest was not yet finished, he saw many signs of that as he made his way to the city, many workers out in the fields and orchards.
He entered the bailey, but there was yet another small crowd, this one seemed in a much worse mood than the jovial one at the front gates. They seemed to be surrounding center block where the vertical stockade sat unused for so many years. The very stockade his wife crouched under for three days, over 7 years ago. As he neared he saw that the stockade was no longer unused.
A pain filled sigh escaped his heavy chest. It seemed Sharn was not going to take a different route than his father. He slid from his horse and walked towards the center block. “This is over!” he yelled as he entered the inner circle of the crowd. “All of you go home, I am sure you have better things to do!” The crowd slowly thinned as they saw the captain coming forward. He turned to look at Sharn’s newest victim. He was startled.
“No…” he whispered.
