desserts.
All along the front face of Queen Willa’s Xwardian Palace, starting above the second floor’s row of arched windows, had once been a row of forty-foot tall stained glass depictions. All the glass was gone now. High King Mikahl, King Jarrek, Queen Willa, and Hyden Hawk stood in one of the open balcony-like spaces that remained, looking out across the moonlit rubble Pael’s wrath had caused. The horror of the site was displaced by fragments of the stained glass that had been blasted out from the castle wall, leaving the destroyed city looking as if it had been frosted in gems.
In the foreground, below them, the fountain in the middle of Whitten Loch danced and played. The ripples reflected the light of the torches that ran along the top of the castle’s inner wall. The air was still chilled and Mikahl had placed his lion-skin cloak over Queen Willa’s shoulders, but it was King Jarrek who stood closest to her.
“When are you leaving?” Mikahl asked Hyden.
“Two days, if nothing diverts me,” Hyden answered.
“Brady Culvert is a strong sword and a good man, Sir Hyden Hawk,” King Jarrek said. “His father died beside me at Castlemont and was my dear friend.”
“Aye, and I hope we have no need of swords,” Hyden nodded. “The island we’re headed to will most likely be deserted. On the maps I’ve seen, it doesn’t appear to be big enough to sustain much life, but I’m honored to have him along, just in case.”
“Salazar is a tricky place to lay-over,” King Jarrek pointed out. “Brady’s presence will dissuade the alley thieves if you display him properly. It’s the Dakaneese pirates you’ve got to watch out for.”
“Captain Trant is a master seaman, and the Seawander has a most capable crew,” Queen Willa said. She had donated the use of her royal ship as a token of thanks to Hyden Hawk for the deeds he had done to save her kingdom.
“I can’t believe that I used to think that you were a witch,” High King Mikahl laughed lightly. “In Westland, they said that you once turned a man into a pig, and fed your Blacksword army the flesh of your enemies.”
“And I did nothing to make them think any different,” she boasted. “Fear of Willa the Witch Queen has kept many a man from crossing me. I learned that from my grandmother. Rumor and gossip, and sinister legends can sometimes be a weapon far greater than steel.”
“I’m not so sure that she isn’t really a witch,” King Jarrek said with a grin. “She’s been match-making and meddling so much as of late that it wouldn’t surprise me to see her pouring love potions into the Princess and the High King’s cups.”
“It was Hyden Hawk doing the meddling and match-making, from what I hear,” Queen Willa defended with a devilish look at Mikahl.
“I was just trying to show Princess Rosa the High King’s sword-I mean his swordsmanship,” said Hyden.
Mikahl’s glaring eyes spoke volumes about the quality of the revenge he wanted to exact on his friend.
“Nevertheless,” Willa went on, hiding her blush in the mane of the lion’s fur. “I do think she’s taken a liking to you Mikahl. She is smart, very pretty, and it’s obvious that she has caught your eye as well.”
“We’re riding in the park tomorrow,” Mikahl said. “If I could get some time with her, without all of you meddling and eavesdropping, I might be able to have a conversation with her. Until I’ve done that much, she is just another pretty girl to me.”
“I believe you’re right, Queen Willa,” said Hyden with a nod. “He has fallen for her.”
The clang of Mikahl’s steel on the practice yard the next morning was louder and sharper than usual. Hyden came down with the elven longbow Vaegon had given him, and could tell immediately that Mikahl was hammering out his frustrations on some unlucky opponent. Since the day their friend Loudin of the Reyhall had died, Mikahl had risen every morning and put himself through rigorous drills with his sword. The feel of the longbow in Hyden’s hand, and the ringing intensity from Mikahl’s blade brought back a memory of the four of them on their trek through the Giant Mountains. This in turn spurred an even earlier memory of Hyden and Vaegon competing in the archery tournament at the Summer’s Day Festival.
Either he or Vaegon would have won. The winner’s name would have been carved on the Spire at Summer’s Day with all the other champions of the realm, to be seen ever after. That seemed like a life-time ago to Hyden, but it had been less than a year. It was a shame that they never had the chance to finish the contest.
This morning he was unintentionally giving a demonstration on packing the wizard’s eye full of arrows. He could get four of five in the center, but hadn’t found a way to squeeze the fifth one in yet. But it wasn’t for lack of trying. It wasn’t his aim, it was the size of the wizard’s eye. The center of the target was just too small to take five arrow tips completely inside its circumference.
“What you need is smaller shafts, Sir Hyden Hawk,” Brady Culvert said from behind him.
Hyden turned and smiled at the strapping young man. Brady was tall and bulky, but hardly any of it was soft. His unruly dark curls left him with a boyish look. “No more of that ‘Sir’ crud. Not if you’re going with me, Brady,” Hyden said matter of factly. “We travel, we fight, and we work together as equals on our quest.”
“What should I call you then?”
“Hyden, or Hyden Hawk is what my friends call me, and any friend of King Jarrek’s is a friend of mine.”
“Hyden Hawk it is then,” said Brady with a nod. “My father used to buy hawkling eggs from your people at Summer’s Day. He said they were the best for sending important messages, such as troop orders and other royal documents.”
“Don’t let Talon hear you say that,” Hyden joked as he began unstringing his bow. “I use to climb the nesting cliffs in the spring to fetch them down.” He thought of his younger brother Gerard then, and the ring Gerard had found among the nests up there. Sorrow threatened to take hold of him.
The loud clashing of Mikahl’s sword filled the silence. Hyden forced Gerard and his terrible fate out of his mind. “You’ll not need your plate armor; chain mail might even be inappropriate. Good leather with rings should do. I have a feeling that we might have to do a bit of sneaking about, maybe some climbing as well, and a lot of walking.” Hyden paused to look over at a commotion that had broken out. Apparently Mikahl had dislodged an opponent’s sword and it had flown into a bystander.
“I pity his sparring partners today,” Brady said with a grimace of understanding. “He seems exceedingly aggressive for some reason.”
“He’s riding with the Princess this afternoon. All of this royal hoopla is keeping him from being himself.” The concern in Hyden’s voice betrayed how deep his friendship with Mikahl had become. “He wants to go with us more than you could imagine.”
“He’s the High King. All he has to do, is what he wants to do.” Brady scrunched his face up in confusion. “Besides all of that, who’d rather go sailing after pirate treasure with a bunch of louts than ride with Princess Rosa?”
Brady pulled his chin in and gnashed his teeth together in a regretful cringe when he realized he had just called Sir Hyden Hawk Skyler a lout. But to his surprise Hyden was grinning at him.
“You’ll do just fine, Brady,” Hyden spoke his thoughts aloud. “And it takes a lout to know one.”
Phen was waiting in the tower study when Hyden came down the next morning. “I can go!” The boy yelped excitedly. At his feet lay a big burlap sack full of his personal belongings and his extra robe. “When do we leave? What should I bring? What texts are we taking? Master Sholt said that I have to keep tutoring you, so I know we should at least bring three or four books. How about Tales of the Sea? How long do you think we will be gone?” All of Phen’s questions were asked with one breath. Hyden chuckled as the boy inhaled deeply. He was about to begin again when Hyden stopped him with a question of his own.
“What did you learn about the Silver Skull?”
Phen looked at him with a perplexed expression for a moment. “How do you know that I know anything about
