Cobalt Crown - Book One

4 A Knight's Honor

     Astor stood before the temple of Xandagol. Its immense golden towers loomed over the castle grounds like a grand tree whose boughs would have shaded hundreds. There was a ceremonial congregation of knights and lords aligned along the road to the main entrance. Torches were already lit, though it was only dusk. And the sound of reverent silence deafened the night.

     It was the night of the vigil. A night when boy became man, and squire became knight. When the Seated Lords officially recognized the heir through his honor and dignity as a knight of royal blood. Astor had been trained for this night most of his life. And so had his brother, Vayne who stood beside him. He had a pale complexion and jet black hair like his mother. But his eyes were the king's, bright blue seeds of piercing conviction. Young ladies told stories of how they glowed in the dark. Some believed them.

     They stood side-by-side and walked in stride between the lined up men. Faces of lords and knight-peers looked back at the boys, who ceremoniously put on airs of pride and confidence. This was a happy night. All they needed to do was stay vigil for the night's hours, and they would be knighted. Equal with those on the one side. It was a strange goal for which to aspire, considering the status of prince already held more weight on its own. But the ability to command servants and go to royal balls was not of great importance this night. Because something far greater was being cultivated. Something terribly strong, and frighteningly fragile.

     The walk was but a silent traipse through several fields of judging faces, and without a word, the Grand Heiron himself opened the doors for the two, who stepped inside, then stopped and waited for the doors to be closed. Darkness took the temple.

     "I suppose our first test is finding a candle, then?" Astor said.

     "Nonsense," Vayne scoffed. "I've come prepared!"

     From the darkness, Astor saw a light illuminate his brother's face.

     "Bloody hell, Vayne!"

"Relax, it's just some brightrock. I had it in a deep pocket, wrapped up in linen so it wouldn't get exposed."

     They began to walk down the central aisle.

     "Wait, aren't we not supposed to use outside aid for this?"

     "I told you to relax, Astor. We're not being watched. Call it princely privilege."

     "Privilege, eh? Would I be correct in assuming that you arranged for such privilege to take place?"

     "You wouldn't be totally incorrect," Vayne smirked. "I actually had someone else arrange it, but I arranged for them to arrange it, so in a way I wasn't involved directly in the arranging." He popped a grape into his mouth.

     "And I guess you arranged for someone to arrange for those grapes to be left in the temple for us, too?"

     "Not at all," Vayne retorted. "For one, I brought them myself. And two, they're not for you, they're all mine." He pulled the bag closer to himself.

     Astor gave him a look. Vayne eyed him, putting another grape in his mouth. Then they began to smile. Soon they were snickering at each other like they were five years old again. Vayne extended the bag of grapes. Astor took a handful and they continued down the central walkway towards the main altar.

     "Why is this so important, anyway?" Vayne asked through a mouthful of grapes. "I mean, there's more than enough ways we're tested before this, right? We're trained in the ways of sword and shield and lance. We're taught almost all of the things a lord should know by Caiaphus. And yet right at the end there's this supposedly important night where we can't sleep, or suddenly all that training and learning was for nothing. If we fall asleep, then the Seated Lords decide that we weren't fit to be knights after all."