“So you admit to being Prince Gwaynn Massi.”
Gwaynn sighed and nodded. The High Tar knew in any case. “The High King aided the Zani,” he accused once more.
“Perhaps,” Amon said evenly. “Perhaps the Deutzani just used surprise and superior tactics?”
“The Temple Knights were there,” Gwaynn insisted.
“You know this for fact?”
Gwaynn shook his head positively. “Yes.”
Amon sighed. “Yes, the Temple Knights were among the Deutzani,” Amon admitted, again wondering why the High King would be so foolish.
“Why would the High King help the Zani?”
“Yes, why indeed,” Amon wondered once more. “The High King, of course, is not aware of our knowledge in his little deception….nor of yours.”
“Little deception?” Gwaynn asked, suddenly very angry.
Tar Amon bowed to him. “My apologies. I have misspoken.”
They walked for nearly a mile in silence then Amon led them to a large piece of driftwood well up on the beach away from the ever-pounding surf. He sat and invited Gwaynn to do likewise, but the boy stubbornly remained standing for a time, then he realized how tired he was and joined the older man.
“We are very interested in knowing just why the High King would jeopardize his rule and upset the delicate balance of the High Families,” Amon finally said, suddenly looking much older to Gwaynn than he had earlier.
Gwaynn had no answers for him.
“You have become a very great danger to not only the Deutzani, but to the High King himself,” Amon finally stated. “You are right to keep your identity close. Let no one else know. I would call you Karl if I could, but too many people here already know you as Gwaynn.”
Gwaynn cursed to himself. He should have thought to use a different name, but still Gwaynn was not all that uncommon, perhaps he could make it work.
“We have students from all the High Families, including I believe two from the Massi,” Amon explained, and Gwaynn’s heart fell. He had completely forgotten about the two Massi students here. Krys was the name of one. He was older, his studies near completion, Gwaynn thought. The other was a young girl, only eleven, in her first year, but he struggled to remember her name. The girl he had never met, but Krys had come to the castle several times in the last few years, and Gwaynn remembered him well. He was a fantastic swordsman, tall, blonde and very handsome. Gwynn was smitten with him, pretty as he was. Yes, Krys of the Massi was sure to recognize him.
Amon could easily read the dismay on the boy’s face, and smiled. He had a very quick mind, but he would have to learn to keep his thoughts from forming on his face so readily.
“Master Krys was one of those that found you on the beach. He’s told no one but me and I have given him strict instructions to hold his tongue, even though I think such instructions were unnecessary. Both he and Lady Bethany are dismayed by the turn of events, but as yet there has been no trouble between them and the three Deutzani students.”
“There are Deutzani here?” Gwaynn asked intensely, abruptly standing.
Tar Amon turned a hard look on the boy and Gwaynn suddenly realized that this man was Tar of all Tars, and he could now see why in the old man’s eyes. “If you are to stay, there will be no trouble. We, on the Noble Island, are from all families. The students here had nothing to do with the attack on your country, and will not be subject to any repercussions. Am I clear?”
Gwaynn held the High Tar’s eyes. “Yes Sir,” he answered.
“Good,” Amon said, somehow knowing he could believe the boy standing in front of him. “If you wish you may stay on the Island for a time. Becoming a student, of course, is out of the question, but I will set you up to serve Tar Kostek’s quarter.”
A great weight suddenly lifted from Gwaynn’s shoulders, and he could not help but smile at the Old Tar before him. Amon smiled back. “You will report to Leek. His family has been in charge of that quarter for nearly three hundred years. He is expecting you, a distant cousin of the family.”
“Thank you,” Gwaynn said, meaning it.
Amon nodded. “Keep to yourself, attract no attention and you should be able to live reasonably well.”
Gwaynn nodded.
“So, we should be getting back,” Amon said and started to rise. He stopped as Gwaynn stepped forward and took hold of his arm.
“I would like to know if you discover anything about the High King’s motives,” he said, the intense look back on his young face, and it was Amon’s turn to nod, wondering how they had overlooked this boy. Royalty rarely came to them on the islands, but Gwaynn was the youngest of three male children born to the Massi. The High King would have approved such a proposal Amon was sure. It was a shame.
They began their walk back in silence, but after a short way Gwaynn turned to him. “I was wondering if Executioners ever visit Noble Island.”
?
Leek was an old man, a grandfather, and a quiet man. He took to Gwaynn almost immediately, and he was thankful for the help in his quarter. He had three sons himself, but only one, Lane, the eldest, had chosen to stay on the island. Another was aboard the trading vessel Ari Baan, which came to port nearly every year, and his youngest was a merchant in Caul, a port city in Cassinni. Leek’s lone daughter did not survive childhood, but Lane and his wife Shari gave him four granddaughters. Their ages ran between six and seventeen years old, so female help around the quarter was not a problem.
For his part, Gwaynn was surprised to find that he actually liked the physical labor, working around the quarter with Leek and Lane. Both were reserved men, but hard working and patiently showed Gwaynn how to perform all manner of odd jobs from replacing tiles on the roof of the dormitory, to fashioning a hinge for the broken shutter on one of the kitchen windows. He learned to tend the garden, and to feed the livestock under the families care. He found he loved to work outside, and felt a great sense of accomplishment at the end of nearly every day. He was especially proud of the hinge he helped to fashion, and even went so far as to work on several additional hinges in his spare time. So they would have spares, he told Leek, who agree it was a sensible course.
Gwaynn worked hard and spent nearly all of his free time exploring the island. Noble Island was nearly ten miles wide and just over fifty miles long. It was the second largest of the Temple Islands, second only to King’s Island. The island was distinctly shaped, low, flat, sandy land on the western side, but as you headed eastward the land rose higher and higher, became heavily forested and finally culminated in the magnificent Mount Erato, on the extreme eastern end. From a great distance, when the island was very near the horizon, it looked like a great boot sitting on the water, which explained why nearly all of the local fishermen and sailing merchant men referred to it as Boot Island, though never when they might be overheard by a Tar.
The flat sandy western side of the island housed the school, and was split into quarters, each overseen by a local family, and run independently by a single Tar. They were the Mele, Mneme, Aoede, and Clio quarters, but why they were named such was lost in the ancient history of the island. Leek and his family were assigned to the Mele quarter, and had been associated with the group for over ten generations now. Master Amon himself had come out of the Mele quarter, which was a great source of pride for Leek and his family.
Each quarter contained eight students with a new student arriving each year and another one graduating every year. The number of students was always the same, and had been for over four hundred years. The Mele were located on the extreme south of the island. The main hall, adjacent to where Leek and his family lived, was the gathering place for all the students at the end of the day. There they would eat, visit and entertain themselves. It was surrounded by numerous out buildings including four which constituted the students quarters, two students to a building. Gwaynn slept in the loft of the Leek family house, which had a small window that overlooked the walkway leading up to the main hall.
For nearly a month, Gwaynn was quite content, though never truly happy. His work distracted him
