Balion. My real prologue and first chapter (unedited)

Prologue 1

Holding his head in his hands, the young man wept. How could they do this to him? His own family. He could hear voices filter through the gaps in the door, but none of that mattered now. She was gone. Taken from him with one quick act of brutality. Never again would he hear that sweet laugh, those mocking comments that bit with both truth and love.2

“I grieve for you son, but there’s nothing to be done, you know this.” Those were the words of the man who had taken everything from him. The man he had once called father was gone to him now. In his place was set a calculating, heartless king. Who would buy for himself power on the sale of his sons and daughter.3

Well he would still have a son and daughter to buy his power with. But this son he would have no longer4

* * * *5

Julian could hear the young man weeping through the door. 6

The moon looked down with a full face on the city of Rallion, sending through the palace windows an eerie light to match the lord protectors mood. Julian was thankful it was night. The palace that during the day would be bustling with both servants and nobles was at the moment a place of quite movements and little creeks.7

Other than the two men who stood facing each other, the odd guard who would pass on his night time rounds, or the occasional servant, the hallways of the palace were empty.8

Julian, the lord protector of the Hall, looked to his childhood friend.9

“It has been done as the king requested.” Julian answered councillor Bracken, his voice cool.10

“You don’t approve?” Asked the councillor shrewdly. 11

“I don’t see as it matters whether I approve or not. It was the king’s choice to make, and he made it.” 12

Both men knew that if he so chose, Julian could cause more than a little trouble in the matter. 13

“Julian,” said Bracken calmly. “You know that things have to be this way.”14

Those “Things” were the fact that a young man was now sitting broken in the room behind him. Knowing that the woman he loved was now gone, as was the child she had been carrying.15

“Hmph,” snorted Julian. “For the greater good no doubt. As it always is when something nasty takes place. But the greater good is not always the right choice, you know this as well as I.”16

The first councillor to the king looked from side to side, you could never be too careful in the palace of the king, even at this late hour.17

“Julian, please. We are in the king’s palace, not the Hall.”18

Julian smiled ironically. “Have no worries my friend, we are not being overheard.”19

It had been a long day, Julian sighed. “Come, lets have that drink you promised me, I could do with it at this moment.”20

Councillor Bracken smiled, and the two men set off down the lavishly decorated hallways.21

* * * * 22

The contents in the goblet swirled, the vortex at the centre now self sufficient from its creating force.23

King Bryce the second watched in fascination as the vortex slowly died out, the wine returning to its natural placid state. It had taken forty seconds since he had swirled the contents, a simple choice he had made, but from that choice the contents had had enough momentum to carry on unaided for two thirds of a minute. The king of Rallion - the most powerful of the kingdoms on the Kingsland - enjoyed small observations like these. They corroborated what he had always said. Every choice one makes in life has consequences. Some far weightier than others, true. But nevertheless it was a wise man who tried to plan for every eventuality. 24

And that was exactly how the king lived his life. He planned, everything, meticulously. There was never a moment of the day when he was making choices he hadn’t planned for. Even now, the hour after midnight, he was using his planned hour in which to relax. The day had gone well he thought. His son had taken the news of his lovers death as well as could be expected. And it wouldn’t be long before he was back courting. In a couple of months he would let his son know that he was to wed the daughter of king Joan, the princess Alivea. 25

Yes, things were going smoothly once again.26

A noise from the guards outside brought the king out of his musings. The sound of metal striking floor was followed by a crash against the door. King Bryce muttered a curse under his breath and stood, moving towards the door.27

As the king reached forwards to open the door, he suddenly found himself propelled across the room. He lay stunned. Faint voices reached him. He wasn’t sure but he thought he could hear shouting. Slowly, the king opened his eyes. The room which was usually as ordered and planned as one of the kings days, was now a jumble of debris and fallen units. He suddenly felt anger rise up in him. Who would dare attack his persons?28

“What is this!?” roared the king, painfully getting to his feet.29

A young man, one inch past six feet in height, walked through the door less arc. His eyes blazing.30

“This,” said the young man, indicating the decimated room, “Is retribution, father.” 31

The prince cocked his head, looking with dead eyes at his father king. “Now I must finish this, goodbye father.”32

The last thought of king Bryce the second, was not that his son had betrayed him. Nor even was it about his planning in which he had though to have done perfectly. No, he wondered to himself what he had unleashed upon the world? For as he looked into those eyes of death, he saw in them the destruction of all he strived to help thrive. His kingdom.33

Chapter One : Balion 34

Fluid in motion the quill moved across the rough paper, soaking in with the knowledge of plants and remedies that would help for a number of the most common illnesses found on the Kingsland. Balion carefully put the quill back in its holder, stretched his arms above his head, and looked critically on the work he had produced.35

Well, it wasn’t the best he could do, the tails on the “Y” were still what his master would call hooks. And he would have liked to embroider the edges. But all in all it was sufficient for what was needed.36

Balion pushed up from the chair and moved to the cabinet, where he removed four small paper weights that would hold the paper open while it dried.37

Warm streaks of resplendent light filtered through the single window of the back room, colours dancing a myriad of shades as individual ink pots reflected the rays repeatedly off their glass cased bottles, giving the room a more vibrant and airy atmosphere than actually warranted.38

Balion was in a jubilant mood. It was the tenth day of the month. The day in which apprentices from all over the isle of Ripplegate awaited impatiently. The annual half day holiday was usually in itself reason enough to feel relief from the days constant chores, but today that was just a minor part of the reason why Balion was so excited. 39

He felt like rubbing his hands together as he anticipated the coming nights celebrations. This years “day of light festival” would be the best so far, he was sure. Not only the rumours that came down from the keep - which said there was to be a gifted among this years celebrations - but the fact that he was now counted to be amongst the adults, and could compete in the trial of arms - Even though he would only go in for the bow competition - made his body shiver in nervous expectancy. Balion and his closest friend Jack had often talked about going to the games, and all their spare time over the last year was spent practising eagerly for this very day. Jack would be going in for the bow competition too. They both knew that trying for the stave or sword contests would be useless. Balion was of a height with the men on the island, but he lacked the bulk and experience the other fighters had. And Jack, being both shorter and of a slighter build, not to mention never having used a sword or stave in his life, agreed that their best chance of success came with the bow40

Balion was standing with his back to the door when he heard a noise from behind him. He turned to see Master Jerry, looking down on the work lying open on the table.41

“Still got those hooks there, boy,” said Jerry, pointing to the work.42

Jerry was what Balion considered an old man. In his fifties, he spent most of his time in the shop on one project or another. He was a little portly, but by no means was he fat. He still had nearly a full head of hair, but the years had taken their toll and there was only the odd smatter of light brown amongst the grey.43

“I know, I do try to work on them, but it seems to be habit.” Said Balion, placing the inks in their correct place in the cabinet.44

“Hmm, but they are improving. A day practising those alone,” Jerry pointed to one of the “Y”. “And I think you would be aright.”45

Balion looked at Jerry nervously. Jerry laughed, “No, not today. Tomorrow is soon enough. I need you to get them aright by this day in seven. Got a job from the keep, and I need you to do the more simple diagrams and copying.”46

Balion nodded, a feeling of pride suffusing through him. They got a job every now and then from the keep. But previously Jerry had worked on them by himself. It felt good to know that Jerry thought him capable of helping.47

“Now, get going lad. I’ll see you tomorrow.”48

Balion nodded, grabbed his bag of the table, then said goodbye.49

He got to the door of the shop when he wondered, “Jerry, will you be coming to the celebrations tonight?” 50

Jerry looked up from the other side of the counter, “I might be. I don’t really know yet. I got a lot of work to do.”51

Balion nodded, and felt a little guilty that he was leaving Jerry to work alone.52

It wasn’t often that Jerry went to town, Preferring instead to spend his time working through the old tomes, which were in a such a sad state that the ink had long faded over the years, and deciphering runes which it seemed no one understood other than himself.53

Balion pushed thoughts of work aside as he moved through the door of the shop and out onto the street. He wanted to get home as soon as he could, knowing the quicker he did, the more time he would get to practice with his bow before the evening games. He wanted to get in at least a couple of hours practise, and was in no doubt that when he reached the clearing where he and Jack practised, his friend would already be there awaiting him.54

Balion gave brief waves and calls of hello to a number of familiar faces as he jogged the dirt beaten road. It was just past mid day, and the sun hung gracefully at the top of its arc, bathing Balion in an unwelcome wave of heat that made his clothes stick to his back, underarms, and inner thighs as he worked up a sweat.55

Using a trick he had long ago mastered, Balion loosely detangled his mind, shutting out the discomfort of heat and focusing on keeping a steady pace for the two mile distance to his home.56

Like the majority of young men on the island, Balion had spent many years running through the isles forests. Either playing games of chase, or with Jack as they set about adventures in which they made out to be heroes of some great saga. 57

Being used to running in the forests, and traversing unsteady ground, meant Balion found no trouble with leaving the road and taking the shortcut through the woods.58

As Balion ran, he let his thoughts drift. A face, a smile. The way her hair would fan out in the afternoon breeze. Those bright blue eyes that twinkled with amusement and life, capable of bringing a smile to him on even the most trying of days.59

He was thinking, as he had been ever more so lately, of Evelyn, daughter of Riko and Lynne, the only girl on the isle he had ever felt comfortable around. 60

Her parents ran the horse trading farm four miles west of the keep, out where the other farmers plied their trade, growing wheat, grapes, and barley. It had been nearly a year since the last time he had spoken to her, she being an adult, and him still a youth. But tonight that would change. He would be an adult tonight, and he was looking forward to seeing her just as much, maybe even a little more, than he was the actual games themselves.61

Coming up over the last, steep hill, the small cottage house he had called home all his life came into view. Balion smiled with fondness. Unlike the majority of other homes on the isle, this house was not made from the customary beige stone that was quarried from the far west of the island, but instead from the giant oak trees that sheltered it.62

Being in a basin of sorts, the building was flanked on all side by trees and shrubbery, which worked as a stern barrier against both the raging winds which occasionally struck the island, and the yearly spring storms. 63

The garden - his mums pride and joy - was a patchwork of bright colours amongst the vibrant greens of the surrounding forest, instantly portraying a warm, welcoming persona. 64

A movement to his right got Balion’s attention, followed by a neigh from a horse. 65

The door to the outhouse shed was left open, two black hind legs and rump visible. Balion smiled. He had wondered why his mother wasn’t pottering about in the garden as was usual, now he knew the answer. He hadn’t seen the horse in nearly a year, but there was no doubt in his mind who it belonged to.66

Balion made his way down the hill, and walked the path briskly to the door of the cottage. He was surprised when he opened it to find the sitting room empty, likewise the kitchen and the rest of the house.67

On the kitchen table was a single piece of his practise paper which jerry had given him. On top were the words “Gone to town. Wait for me at home.”68

Balion read the brief note again. It was his mothers handwriting. But why would she tell him to wait at home? It wasn’t like his mother to go to town and then tell him to stay at home. He looked again at the note. It seemed rushed, and wasn’t even signed as it usually would be.69

Balion sighed. No doubt there was a good reason for the note. Not that he was happy about it. Jack would wonder where he was when he didn’t show. And he was losing precious time in which to practise.70

There was no point getting angry, he told himself. He would just have to wait until she returned. 71

* * * *72

It wasn’t until the sun had withdrawn its light, hiding behind tall trees, that Balion heard the sound of footsteps and hushed voices outside the cottage door.73

With each passing hour Balion had been getting more and more annoyed. His mother knew how much he was looking forward to the games. What was she thinking?74

And by now he was close to displaying open anger.75

The door pushed open with a squeal of protest, a stale warm wind ungraciously accepting admittance followed by his mother and Jecht (Balion’s uncle, his mothers brother).76

The sight was not the one he had been expecting.77

Jecht’s smiling face was etched in a grimace as he leant heavily on the slim form of his sister. Pale and gaunt, he still managed a smile when he saw Balion get to his feet.78

“You’ve grown,” 79

“What happened?” Asked Balion, his earlier frustration now gone. 80

“Well,” said Jecht, he took Balion’s shoulder and let himself be guided to a chair.81

“Arhh, now that’s better.” he said as he took the chair closest the door.82

“Give me a moment lad. Rosa, you got anything to drink around here?”83

With a shake of her head, Rosa left with a muttered “men”, and returned with a bottle of wine from the kitchen.84

Jecht took the offered glass, filled it, drank it, then filled it again.85

“Hmm, wines not too bad. Nothing compared to a nice cold ale,” his eyes got a faraway look. “But it helps.” his eyes came back into focus.86

Rosa scowled at him disapprovingly.87

Jecht smiled weakly, “Well, my darling sister. As you can no doubt see, I AM in a little pain.” He hoisted the glass towards her. “But another couple of these should do the trick.” He downed it to prove his point. Then laughed at the expression on his sisters face.88

Balion sat patiently while Jecht filled his glass once again. He watched as his uncle shuffled in his seat, grimacing with discomfort as he did so.89

Growing up Balion had always looked forward to his uncles visits. So full of life and experience, the swordsman from Rallion had always treated him like an adult. It was Jecht who had first taught Balion to use a bow, and how to move trough the forest with stealth when on the hunt for small game.90

Balion found it discomforting to see his uncle in such a situation. But had to admire the way he could still laugh when he was obviously in a great deal of pain.91

“So,” said Balion, looking questioningly at his uncle. “What happened?”92

Jecht sighed, “Well… I got into a little disagreement.”93

Balion raised his eyebrows.94

“Come now, lad,” said Jecht seriously. “I couldn’t give justice to the tale in my condition.” He pointed to his bandaged side. “You know how I like a good story.”95

Balion nodded his understanding. It was true, his uncle did love a good story. Many an hour had Balion sat on the hearth while listening to Jecht’s wild tales of Rallion. Where there was said to be buildings hundreds of feet high, and markets that covered more ground than all the inhabitants homes on the isle covered.96

It was quite obvious his uncle didn’t want to talk about that which had befallen him, so Balion kept quite. 97

“And anyway,” said Jecht, narrowing his eyes at Balion. “Since when have I reported to you, young lad?98

Balion felt heat warm his cheeks.99

He had grown used to questioning things over the last five months of his apprentiship. That was how Jerry taught him. He taught Balion to not only copy the work, but to read and understand too. And question. Jerry would want to know everything about any single piece of work copied. What the work was for? What did the work actually mean? And did he agree with what he had copied? If not, why?100

He was about to offer an apology when his uncle chuckled and waved it away.101

Once Jecht had satisfied himself with wine, he stretched languidly.102

“I think,” said Jecht with a yawn. “That I could do with some sleep.”103

Rosa nodded her head sagely, “Yes, you do. And I think you have had enough wine for one day too.” She reached over and took the half empty wine bottle from the table.104

Balion had to suppress a laugh at the expression his uncle wore as he watched his sister walk away. “Women! Always think they know what’s best for you,” grumbled the swordsman.105

It was readily agreed that Jecht would use Balion’s room for the night, and Balion would use a pallet in the living room. 106

Once Jecht was settled in and had everything he needed, Balion made his way to the kitchen, were his mother was making ready the evening dinner.107

“Ok, I’m going now,” said Balion to his mothers Back. “There’s nothing else you need help with?”108

Rosa looked over her shoulder, “No everything is fine now Balion. Your uncle should be back to normal in no time.”109

Balion agreed.110

“I’m going into town for the festival,” Balion said. Making sure his mother understood.111

Rosa let out a vibrant little laugh, “I know, you didn’t think I had forgot?” She looked out the window. “You still have plenty of time to get there. Good luck my son. Don’t be too disappointed if you don’t win. The older men have had a lot more time and practice with the bow than you have.”112

Balion gave a small nod. He knew what she said was true, but he hadn’t spent all his spare time practising so he could lose in the first round. 113

After Balion had said goodbye and grabbed his bow from the corner, he went out the door and started to make his way to town.114

It was only a forty minute walk to town from his mothers cottage, so he was in no rush. But nevertheless Balion walked at a swift pace. He wanted to make sure he had enough time to find Jack, and get accustomed to the atmosphere before he had to compete. The last thing he wanted was to arrive and have to go straight into competition. He liked to have time to get his mindset ready before hand.115

At the edge of town singing and roast meat drafted along currents of air to reach him. Balion had told himself during the walk that there was no point getting nervous, he could only do as well as he could, nothing else.116

But as he drew closer, and could see the crowds of people gathered along the edge of the field, he felt his stomach tighten. All those people would be watching him soon. What if he made a fool of himself? What if he missed every target? They would laugh and snicker, he would look stupid!117

Balion moved in and out, trying desperately to avoid the people who stood queuing at the tables laden with free food. Baron John had always provided the food for the games, and usually Balion would be among those standing in line. 118

His stomach twitched as he thought about the abundance of food. No, no food for him until later. He had more important things to worry about.119

It wasn’t long before he spotted Jack, sitting with a pasty in one hand and a cub of ale in the other.120

“Ready then?” asked Balion as he came up behind his friend.121

Jack looked round and smiled confidently, “Of course. You?”122

Balion sat beside his friend. Looking onto the grass field where he would soon be competing. 123

“I think so. I’m nervous, and I can feel in my stomach an ache that makes me feel sick. But other than that I should be alright. As long as I manage to shoot in the right direction, what can go wrong?”124

Jack laughed, “Have I ever told you? You worry too much. Just go out there and shoot the targets, that’s all you got to do.” He stuffed the last of the pasty in his mouth and washed it down with the ale from his cup.125

Balion grimaced, “How can you eat? We’re the first up. And you sit here stuffing your face like you was at home, with nothing more worrying on your mind than you have to get up for your apprentiship in the morning.”126

Jack shrugged, “what does it matter? We either do good, or we don’t. no point worrying about it is what I say.”127

The two young men looked out to where the targets were being set up. The first round would be twenty five meters. The second forty. The third fifty. 128

“But I have to say I do hope I do ok,” said Jack wistfully. “Wouldn’t want to miss the first target.”129

So even Jack, the ever confident and charming rouge, was feeling a little nervous. For some reason that made Balion feel a little better. It wasn’t just him. If Jack was feeling a little nervous, he had reason to worry.130

The two friends sat talking while the crowd grew ever ready. Both Balion and Jack knew from their practice that thirty meters was an easy target to hit, so worked out they should have no trouble with hitting the first. The second would be more of a challenge. The clearing where they spend most of their time was just over fifty meters, and they had been practising at this distance too. Balion could hit a target from fifty meters maybe two in every three shots. 131

If he didn’t let nerves get the better of him, he should stand a chance of reaching the final round.132

Balion felt himself calm. What had he been worrying about? He would definitely hit the first target, and to go out in the second round was no disgrace.133

By the time the two young men had worked out their strategy, they were both grinning confidently.134

“If we can get to the last round, who knows what could happen!” said Jack as he slapped Balion on the shoulder. “One of us might even win. Then what would the girls say? Uh?”135

Balion joined his friend in laughter. He knew how much Jack like the girls.136

Both boys where cut short when a stout guardsmen called from the field.137

“Bowmen to the fore. The games are to start!”138

The crowd roared its approval.139

Balion and Jack looked to each other and nodded tightly.140

From the crowd aliened along the edge of the field came the competitors. Old veterans who had served their king against the Alman in the war of kings, middle aged men at arms who had known nothing more strenuous than patrols and drills, young untried men who had practised eagerly for a chance to distinguish themselves. All came forward with bow in hand.141

It was still bright and clear across the field even at this hour of the day. It would stay bright and clear for at least two more hours guessed Balion as he moved forward. 142

The crowd at his back were shouting for their favourites. He heard a couple of names he recognized. 143

“So,” a voice said from behind. “Lets see how the little scholar can do at playing soldier.”144

Balion didn’t need to turn to know who it was. The contempt in the voice gave him his answer.145

“Worry about yourself, Travis,” said Balion, not even turning. 146

The big apprentice who was now at his side was the isle bully. His size, and Balion had to grudgingly admit, his brute strength, scared a lot of the smaller apprentices into doing as he wished. Travis and Balion had taken a dislike to each other from the moment they laid eyes on one another. Balion had nothing but loathing for the big apprentice smith. And was certain the feeling was reciprocated.147

“Oh,” said Jack, finally noticing the newcomer. “If it isn’t the big bumbling, all fumbling, anvil pumping and no dancing apprentice smith. What brings you here today? Come to collect arrows?” Jack smiled winningly.148

Balion burst out laughing. The tension that had been haunting his body evaporating in an explosive release. Only Jack could make Balion laugh like that. The way he said it, and stood looking at Travis all innocent only made Balion laugh harder.149

The big blonde bully stormed away red faced.150

“You really are evil, you know that?” said Balion to his friend.151

“Well,” said Jack seriously. “I seemed to have upset him. I wonder what I said wrong?” 152

When the two friends reached the soldier who was directing the games they quickly sobered up. The old veteran ordered all who were to compete to stand in a single line. There were about thirty competitors in total. Balion stood behind Jack and waited for the Games to begin.153

Behind the line of competitors and separate from the crowds of cheering islanders were white and grey tents, which housed the baron and his court. The people outside the tents were more refined, either patiently sitting, or standing, as they awaited the games to begin. It was easy to distinguish them from the normal islanders by their fancy clothes and superior manner.154

Balion had seen the Baron a few times throughout his life. Most usually at the games, where the Baron competed against his subjects in the sword competition.155

Last year there had been a particularly exciting match between the Baron and Aaron - The Barons Swordman -, it had ended with the Swordman besting his liege with a deft parry and counter strike.156

Balion remembered that particular evening clearly. He was surprised when the Baron had pushed himself from the floor and grinned broadly. Balion was expecting the man to berate and punish, but instead he congratulated and rewarded. Balion thought more of him for his fairness.157

A change in the atmosphere made Balion turn around. From the tents at the back of the field came three horse and riders. 158

The horse were obviously the finest on the isle. No doubt shipped in from the mainland. The three riders treated the tall sleek animals with grace and skill, the centre of the riders changing direction more with his legs than the reigns.159

The crowd quietened as Baron John galloped into the middle of the field. His son on his right. And his daughter on his left.160

Balion felt a nudge in his ribs.161

“Where do you think the other son is?” asked Jack quietly. “He’s usually out there with his father looking down his nose at us.” He sounded rather pleased that he wasn’t.162

Balion shrugged, “Don’t know. Maybe he’s ill? I heard that he had suffered from a wasting sickness during the winter. Maybe he’s still not well.”163

At a signal from the soldier leading the preparations for the games, the crowd went quiet. And Jack too.164

Baron John moved his horse forward a step.165

“My people!” said the Baron in a hearty rich voice. Loud enough to reach all on the field. “Today we celebrate the Day of Light festival!”166

The crowd roared.