Prince of Time

Chapter Twenty-Six - The Monastery of Shan-Wir

Nicanor was on the last watch. It seemed to him to be the worst, though he supposed that Tobiah, who had stayed awake throughout the middle portion of the night, actually had it hardest. At least he had had hours of sleep.

  He felt uneasy about sending Maple and Ane off with the Knight-Captain alone. Nobody knew where they were going, only that Haliwen was sure they would find last root there. It didn’t sit right with Nicanor.

  He was certain, of course, that Maple could take care of herself. He didn’t exactly like the girl, who he took to be far too serious and a little too bossy, but he admired her in many reluctant ways. There was a grim determination about her that he appreciated.

  Ane was the concern. Though she had allegedly been taught to defend herself, Nicanor had no faith in her fighting abilities. The girl was small and pretty, which made her a target and a liability. It was hard to imagine her ever being completely safe.

  Nicanor pushed such thoughts out of his mind. There was enough to be dealing with here, a morning’s walk below the monastery. He dreaded to think what they would find when they got there.

  There was a possibility that the monastery was abandoned. In which case, Nicanor knew that Tobiah would lose his temper in frustration. He hoped that the prince would choose him to take it out on, though Pepper could easily have fought her corner.

  If they found an army there, a gathering of whatever this “darkness” truly was, there would be hell to pay. Nicanor wouldn’t bet on their survival. Three trained fighters against a force of evil? The odds were laughable.

  Finding Princess Lym dead would probably have the worst result. It was the one hardest to guess. Nicanor’s opinion of the prince had risen and fallen periodically over their journey. Sometimes he admired him, sometimes he loathed him. But in the matter of his sister, it was obvious where Tobiah stood.

  Nicanor shuddered, pushing aside the idea of what grief might do to the already-volatile prince.

“Morning,” Pepper sat up, running a hand through her uncontrollable hair. “Nobody killed us while we slept?”

“Not that I noticed,” Nicanor smiled. 

He didn’t think much of Pepper either. The girl seemed to him to be Maple’s sidekick and nothing more.

“We should be moving,” Pepper looked at the sky. “It’s past dawn. I want to be out of these mountains as soon as possible.”

“We’re moving,” Tobiah agreed, going from deep sleep to awake and standing in one fluid motion.

He yawned briefly, buckling his sword around his waist. Glancing around, he rolled his eyes.

“Somebody wake Zeno? That boy isn’t used to early rising.”

They climbed throughout the morning. The road grew steadily steeper and rougher, though still wide enough for a cart to be pulled through. Nicanor was starting to realise just how defensible this monastery was going to be.

 Tobiah strode ahead, silent and stormy. The air around him seemed to crackle with pent-up fury. Nicanor could almost imagine thunderclouds bursting out around his head, lightning flashing from his eyes.

 Pepper jabbered on, chattering about this and that, criticising and insulting as she felt. Nicanor returned the banter each time but without any enthusiasm. His mind was elsewhere. Zeno remained quiet.

 By mid-morning, they could see the monastery above them. It was a dark lump of hulking stone, windowless and walled. It looked more like a prison than the home of philosophers and doctors in days long ago.