ShadowKnight

Chapter Four

On the first day of August that summer, Tarin and Jim both set out for the capital, to become knights in the king's Knight Academy, held on the palace grounds.
Tarin was just finishing his tearful goodbyes, as he loaded a pony with supplies for the journey. The ride itself wasn't long. A little less than a day's ride, and they would be at the walls of Krynn, the human capital. But they would have to ride around the perimeter of the forest to reach it, and it could be dangerous, so both Tarin and Jim were equipped with real swords, and some light leather armor. Their clothes and belongings were bundled into packs, and set into saddlebags. Tarin was doing a final check of his tack when Ella approached, carrying a small basket, from which good smells emanated.
"A little something for the road," she sniffed. "I can't believe how grown-up you are, my dear boy." She embraced him, and he stood, a little stiffly, embarrassed.
"Mama," He said gently, using his childhood name for her. "I'm not going far. You can always come to visit."
Ella was painfully aware that this was the second time she had seen a boy she'd raised go off to become a knight.
"You are just like your father," she said, "And I am so proud of you."
Tarin smiled, and mounted his horse.
"I'll be back soon. You won't even notice that I'm gone," he said cheerfully, before trotting down the hill, to where his friends waited.
Mark and Rich walked with them for a little ways out of town, but soon they fell behind and waved as Jim and Tarin rode away. Tarin turned to look several times over his shoulder at the small figures still wave as they became mere dots at the edge of the village, but soon Jim and Tarin rounded a bend in the road, and they were gone.
The road itself followed the river, a tributary of the (name of the bigger river)
The city came into sight several hours before they would reach it. Set on a hill in the middle of a large plain, the turrets of the castle rose above the walls of the city like a beacon, the white stone shining in the bright sunlight. A sparkling ribbon of water marked the river that flowed from the forest to the ocean, interrupted only where the road met the river. It was at that point that a large stone bridge stood, wide enough for four horses to cross shoulder to shoulder. It was as they took in this view, poised on the top of a low ridge, that Tarin remembered the basket Ella had given him. Dismounting, he opened it up to reveal two sandwiches, made of thick slices of bread, with greens and thinly sliced meat inside. They were wrapped in thin strips of cloth, to prevent them from drying out in the heat of the sun, and Tarin handed one of the bundles over to Jim, who took it gratefully.
"Good, I was wondering when we were going to stop for lunch. I'm starving."
"You're always starving these days," Tarin said, leading his pony to a small stand of trees, where they could rest in the shade. Tying the reigns around the saddle-bow, he let the horse wander, grazing peacefully, as he sat down in the long grass on the side of the road. Unwrapping the sandwich, he bit into it enthusiastically, savoring the flavors of the meat and the crunch of the greens.
"Well, you look peaceful." Jim said, sitting down beside his friend.
"Why not? Beautiful day, great sandwich, and we are about to start a great adventure, just like we dreamed of as kids."
"Right, here's to a great adventure then," Jim held up his sandwich in a mock toast and took a bite. "Wow, this is good. If I'd known the cooking was this great at your house, I never would have left Grenwood." Tarin laughed, and they continued their lunch in silence. Tarin looked back along the road where they'd come, and for a moment, wondered if he was really doing the right thing, leaving home to become a knight.
They reached the front gates of Krynn in the early afternoon, a little dusty, and a little saddle-sore, but excited. Tarin could barely take in the sheer number of people walking and riding down the cobblestone street from the main gate to a central square, which had a large round fountain in the middle. The square was lined with shops, selling things that Tarin had never seen before, in more colors than he could imagine. There was a dress-maker's shop, and a silversmiths, and was that a magic shop, all filled with crystals and things?
"Come on, we're expected inside," Jim said, tearing Tarin's attention away from the city, and towards the King's castle.
It was on the other side of the fountain that the main gates to the castle lay. Large wooden doors in a fifteen foot wall, which encircled the entire town. Craning his neck, Tarin could see the tall towers of the castle soaring high above him, and he knew that they offered many places for defenders to retreat, and pour hot oil and arrows down at any would-be attacker. Jim knocked on the gates, and they swung open on well greased hinges, closing again with a soft boom as Tarin and Jim rode inside.
"Dismount here," a man dressed in a surcoat emblazoned with the king's seal directed them. The boys did as they were told, dismounting their horses and setting foot on the smooth stones of the courtyard. A stablehand came forward to take the reigns, and the two were led inside.
"We are Jim and Tarin of Grenwood village," Jim introduced himself and Tarin, "We're here to join your knight's academy, and train to become warriors in service to the king."
The man didn't respond, but only nodded, leading them along the wide hallway. The marble floor was covered by a long red rug, and men in armor stood at attention at regular intervals along it.
"You two picked a heck of a time to arrive." The man said, "The prince turns fifteen on the seventeenth, and preparations have been underway for his birthday party for weeks now." He shouted an order at a servant dashing past laden with several bolts of cloth, but Tarin and Jim simply followed.
"What's so important about the prince turning fifteen?" Jim asked, and Tarin nudged him in the ribs with an elbow.
"Don't you listen to any of Ella's stories?" He hissed, "Fifteen is the age the prince goes to spend a year abroad, learning about the culture, and the common people, and how to be a good king. It's the whole setup for the ruling family, something about an old curse."
"Oh, yeah, I remember that story," Jim rubbed his side where Tarin had elbowed him. "I think you bruised a rib there, Tarin."
"Sorry," Tarin muttered. "I wouldn't have had to if you weren't such an idiot."
"Hey, I am not an idiot--" But the rest of Jim's protest died on his lips as they stepped through a door and into the main audience chamber and ballroom of the castle. It was hung with no less than three large chandeliers, which glittered in the light of a thousand candles. The ceiling was draped with sheer cloth, which floated like clouds, and through it Tarin could make out a mosaic of the constellations. There was the Archer and his dogs chasing the Boar across the sky.
"Watch your step," the servant said, descending some stairs.
Tarin looked down just before his foot slipped off the edge of the marble landing, and the two followed him down the curved flight of steps, across the ornately tiled dance floor, and through another side door, leading to a much more narrow hallway than the main one they'd entered the ballroom through.
"Normally, I would take you to the barracks, but our battle master is currently busy with affairs in another part of the castle." He paused before opening another door. "Do not speak of this to anyone," he said, pushing the door open to reveal another wide hallway. The door itself was hidden behind a large tapestry, and the servant slipped unobtrusively out, beckoning Tarin and Jim to do the same.
They found themselves outside a large, ornately carved door with golden doorknobs. Behind the door, Tarin could make out raised voices.
"...No! How could he do this to me, when he knows how much this means to me!" A boy's voice, breaking with emotion, shouted.
"The king has given me orders to rescind your training for the time being," the second voice said. This one was older, and sounded tired.
"They have been arguing for several hours about this already," the servant said, raising his hand nervously to knock on the door.
"What are they arguing about?" Tarin asked, and the man dropped his hand.
"The prince is no longer allowed to train with the sword, leading up to his quest. He is to spend the time in meditation, dwelling on the kind of king he wants to be. The prince is simply refusing."  He raised it again, but froze, unable to knock. Tarin, unable to see what the fuss was about, raised his own hand and knocked sharply on the door. The sound was loud, and it echoed down the hallway. The room on the other side fell silent.
"Great, Tarin. Did you dent the door?" Jim whispered, but the boy's voice from the other side spoke first.
"What do you want?"
"I bring two recruits, who wish to be granted an audience with the battlemaster," the man stuttered, and the door opened to reveal a boy with dark hair and green eyes, hardly older than Tarin, who glared at the servant with contempt and anger. On his head was a silver circlet, and he wore a shirt of fine linen, and a tunic of dark blue velvet. His boots were polished black leather, and he wore white leggings. He looked like he'd never done a days hard work in his life.
"He's busy," the prince said. "What do they want?" he turned his eyes on Tarin, who stood at attention, feeling rather plain in his simple brown tunic.
"We request an audience with the battle master," Tarin said, staring the boy down. They stood eye to eye, and Tarin realized that he had stepped forward, so they were hardly an inch apart. Jim was pulling at his arm, but Tarin ignored him, and then the prince, still glaring, did the unthinkable. He took a step aside, and opened the door. Perhaps he had seen the flash in Tarin's eyes, and recognized the magic that lurked there. Or perhaps he simply saw someone who was even more stubborn than he was. The prince would never share.
Tarin led Jim and the servant into the room, taking in the large four poster bed, draped with more blue velvet, and the wide window opening onto a balcony that overlooked the wall. It wasn't too far to jump either, but it was a terrible fall if you missed. A large wardrobe stood against the wall, with a large silver crown, studded with sapphires hanging from one ornately carved corner.
In the center of the room, dressed in half armor, a chainmail shirt and cowl, under a long surcoat emblazoned with his personal coat of arms, and carrying a sword, was the battle master of Krynn. He was about 40 years old and well muscled. His closely shorn hair was salt-and-pepper, and he had no beard, but sported a large bristiling mustache, which matched his hair in color.
"Sir!" Jim came to attention and saluted. "We request that we be made recruits to become knights, sir!" Tarin resisted the urge to smile as he too came to attention in front of the knight.
"Sir, my name is Tarin, and this is Jim. We are from Grenwood village." Tarin said, handing a letter to the battle master. It was a letter of reference, which simply stated that they were who they said they were.
The battlemaster looked the two boys over, "Well, you seem strong enough, and I could always use more recruits." He said thoughtfully. "I see no reason why not. Set for the usual 3 month probation, of course. I'm on my way back to the barracks I'll take you there myself." He added with a meaningful look at the prince, who crossed his arms and scowled.
Without another glance at the prince, the battle master led the way out of the room, Tarin and Jim on his heels.

The knight academy barracks was a large stone building, square and solid against the castle wall. A wooden gate in the side opened onto a courtyard filled with wooden posts padded with cloth. These were arranged in neat, even rows, and at each one was a young man in chain mail and a white surcoat. Each trainee held a blunt, wooden sword in his right hand, and wore a square shield on his left arm.
Jim shook Tarin's arm in mute excitement as the battle master led them past the trainees and through another, smaller door into the main part of the barracks. Several archways opened onto dorm rooms lined with bunk beds, and one led to a large room filled with tables. It was currently empty except for a few more trainees wiping tables and sweeping the floor. They swept past the scene though until they entered the battle master's office, which was a stone room, sparsely furnished with just a few chairs and a large wooden table, serving as a desk. The desk was strewn with papers and half-read scrolls, all of which the battle master ignored as he sat down to face the two boys.
"I'm not going to lie to you, boys," he said heavily. "These are tough times. We have a severe shortage of new recruits, and very few messages from outlying villages, particularly those in the north, near the forest. This is no time to send the prince away from the palace for an entire year."
Jim and Tarin exchanged a look, and the battle master continued.
"We are a small kingdom, and the elves have been here a lot longer than we have. We must defend Lollica with everything we have!"
"Yeah!" Jim cheered, getting to his feet. He sank slowly back into his chair under the battle master's gaze. When he'd sat down once again, he slid two sheets of parchment across his desk towards the boys, a smile wrinkling his eyes slightly.
"It's good to know that you are enthusiastic. Hold onto that spirit when your training begins. The knight academy is a tough school, and you'll need every scrap of it. Sign these enrollment forms, please."
The boys signed their names carefully, and passed the parchments back. The battle master rolled them up quickly and slid them into a cubbyhole filled with many other identical rolls.
"My name is Sir Donovan," He said, gesturing toward the door, and the boys quickly stood. "Report to Sir Gerald, and he will set you up with uniforms, arms and armor. You begin first thing tomorrow."