Worlds Away - Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Adam found the library purely by accident. After realizing that he couldn't call Hagen back and ask the other man where the library was, he set about to discover it for himself. He figured that at best, opening doors and peeking into rooms, he would eventually find it. At worst, he would give himself a tour of the Lion Palace of Stiborn.

As he wandered the corridors and halls, he reviewed in his mind what little he knew about himself and this place. He was a prince. From the sound of things, he was not just any prince — he had been called High Prince — but he was the heir. Whether he was the sole heir remained to be seen, but he was an individual of great importance to the — country? kingdom? — of Stiborn.

He was also engaged to marry a princess from a kingdom called Albarasque. And she was not an ordinary princess by any stretch of the imagination. A princess who was also a priestess and a mage, ideas which brought up and created even more questions in Adam's mind. His fiancée was a mage; he was a mage; that was the reason for this arranged marriage. Well, he was relatively certain that it wasn't the only reason; from what he recalled royal marriages in medieval and renaissance times were usually made for the sake of keeping peace, the annexation of land and the growth or submission of a country.

Adam needed a map. Which would probably be in the library — whenever he found it.

A few other things became clear to him in his wanderings as well. For starters, no one seemed to care very much that the prince was wandering the corridors and peeking into rooms. He wondered if this was a behavior that was typical of Prince Adam Aldaric — and he dreaded the thought that he had fallen into a world where he was supposed to be a flighty and empty-headed figurehead — or if the servants merely ignored the eccentric behavior of their future sovereign. Adam very much hoped that it was the latter.

The royal colors of the Lion Palace were clearly deep burgundy, a rich violet and gold. Those colors were a recurring theme throughout the Palace, echoing and repeating themselves in the tapestries and mosaics. The guards and the servants wore those colors, and on second inspection of himself, Adam discovered that the sleeves of his riding shirt were ringed with burgundy, violet and gold. He didn't think the colors were any mark of station; rather he had the distinct feeling that his mark of station came from the simple pendant which hung around his neck — a lion flanked by a sword and a rose — images he had also seen repeated in the mosaics and tapestries.

He had all but given up looking for the library when he reached a wing that dead-ended in two large double doors. Closed, the doors bore the image of a sleeping lion; opened, the lion's body would be parted in the middle. Above and below the lion were engraved and carved out quills and letters, worked together in such an elaborate way that it took Adam a moment to realize he was staring at quills and letters.

"Pay dirt," Adam grinned, and pushed the doors inward.

He then gasped.

The library was two stories high, with curving staircases on either end of the large room. The second floor was open in the center, elaborately carved and decorated wooden beams serving as railings to prevent someone from falling to the floor below. Or at least, to give someone the comfort of believing they would not fall to the floor below. Leather bond books and scrolls covered the shelves and enclaves of both floors, and as he strolled forward, his heels clicking loudly on the polished gray tiled floors, Adam realized that finding the information he wanted wasn't going to be as easy as he had hoped.

Damn.

"Your Highness?"

The voice behind him startled him, and Adam spun quickly. He recognized the gray haired and whizzened man from his meeting with the king earlier, and took pause. Had he really been wandering so long that the man beat him to the library?

Of course, this man knew where the library was.

"Master Ilarms, I —" Adam stopped and fumbled for the right words. He couldn't just ask for books about Stiborn and Albarasque, could he? While the servants might be willing to ignore his unusual behavior, he had the feeling that the man before him would not. This man was at least a scholar of some sort, if not the king's personal advisor; acting strangely would only gain him attention that he did not want. He didn't imagine that anyone in this place would be happy to learn that he was not the prince, for some reason the words 'spy' and 'treason' popped into his head, and Adam much preferred keeping his head attached to his neck. "You startled me."

"Then you should not have let your guard down," Master Ilarms patted him on the shoulder, an affectionate gesture which surprised Adam. "We shall have to talk to Stewart about that. You have been lax in your battle practice lately — or so the rumors say."

"I've been — distracted." That seemed a safe and reasonable enough reply.

"So, it has been noted." Master Ilarms stepped closer, and Adam realized that he was a good head taller than the stooped man. That however didn't matter, because as he gazed down into eyes so blue that they were nearly black, Adam felt like he was the one being dwarfed. "I have not told your father that you are playing with magic that is beyond your grasp, and I have been lenient and patience in allowing your explorations. Eris, Shira and Damiaren know that you have gone beyond what I can teach you.

"But you must have patience, my prince. When this marriage is sealed, you will have access to the knowledge that has made the damiar the most powerful magi in this world. You will grow in skill and ability, you will be able to do what so few of our people may do and study at the temple of Damiaren, alongside their priests and magi.

"But that is only if you manage to keep yourself alive that long and don't destroy this gift the gods have given you!" As he said the last, Master Ilarms voice rose, and bellowed out, echoing largely throughout the entire library. "I have seen those who burn themselves out, Adam. And I tell you again, as I have done a hundred times in the past — it is not a pretty picture."

"I'm sorry. I'll be more careful." Under the circumstances, those seemed the most appropriate words that he could say.

"You will be the epitome of careful!" Master Ilarms stomped his foot to punctuate his words. "No more of this dallying and playing with the flows, no more tapping into power sources that you are unfamiliar with. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Master Ilarms." Adam answered with all honesty because he had no intentions of experimenting with unfamiliar magic; which in his case, was any magic at all.

"Good then. I am glad we have settled that. I trust we shall not have this conversation again."

"We won't," Adam promised. Then a thought occurred to him. He might be able to get a bit more information from Master Ilarms if he chose his words carefully and played his hand correct. "Although I am certain that the Damiar Princess never gets this type of scolding."

Master Ilarms eyes flashed, but his body language was such that Adam knew his hunch had been correct. The scholar — and mage — before him was used to Adam putting up a fight — or at least a bit of an argument. "The princess was born and raised using magic. Her situation is far different from yours, and by Damiaren you know it.

"Although in private counsel, I will say that I still do not see how the child could have possibly earned the rank of High Mage at such a young age."

"You still doubt her ability?" Adam was drawing at straws here, hoping that he read Master Ilarms's cues right and trying to judge from what he remembered of his conversation with Hagen.

"I have never said that I doubted her ability. You stop twisting my words. I have no doubts that she is as powerful — or at least has the potential to be as powerful — as her grandmother Damiar Roleran. But she has barely walked on this world for nineteen feastdays, so it is doubtful that she has reached her full potential. But, I suppose when your mother is one of the High Twelve of the Damiaren Temple and the sovereign of the land, such matters of are of little consequence."

"I suppose," Adam sighed heavily, realizing that the answer he received only raised more questions.

Master Ilarms touched his arm again, his grip gentle but firm. "Do not let the stories and rumors alarm you, my prince. Remember, the Damiar Princess Amideira is but a child, and you are not so much older than she. Her language and her culture are different, but you share a passion and a gift — and that is the magic. I have no doubt that you — and she — will adapt. However much neither of you wants this marriage.

"She is a sweet child, Adam, although somewhat innocent in the ways of the world. Whoever had the inspired idea to put a future sovereign into a cloister — well, it's no business of mine. Amideira has a quick mind and keen wit; she will make you a fine wife and good, strong queen. Mark my words; if you work at this, you will have a fine marriage, and through your heirs, ascendancy of two kingdoms."

"And what part of that is supposed to make me feel better?" Adam realized he had asked the question aloud as the man at his side smiled, a twinkle in his eyes.

"You know that I would not lead you astray in this, my prince. I have met the Damiar Princess. I approve of this marriage, the treaty and everything else it entails. And you know how fond I am of politics."

Master Ilarms had met the princess? That was unexpected. Or maybe not. After all, he was also instructing the Prince in the ways and language of Albarasque. It only made sense that he had been there.

"Well, I've never met her," Adam remarked.

"Well, perhaps that may change when she sets foot upon Stibornian soil. It is my understanding that Damiar Amideira is quite willful — certainly should make your marriage all the more interesting — but perhaps if she is as anxious to see you as you are to meet her, something will be arranged.

"Although, I daresay that the Damia Reina won't like that very much."

Adam had figured out by now that Damia Reina was the title given to the ruler of Albarasque. Damia, had to be something related to the title Damiar, and Reina, if his memory served, was actually Spanish for "queen."

"Why is she doing this?" Adam asked carefully.

"Why is whom doing what?"

"The Damia Reina. It sounds as though she doesn't really approve of this marriage. Or at least that she wants to make it as difficult as possible."

Master Ilarms studied him for a moment, then motioned Adam to the closest seat. Adam noticed the scholar waited until Adam sat down before seating himself. "I was wondering when we would have *this* conversation."

"Then I'm not imagining it?"

"No indeed, you are not. I think that the Damia Reina does indeed disapprove of this marriage — it was proposed by Damiar Roleran, whom despite the fact that she no longer sits on the Sun Throne or even holds court, still holds a great deal of power. I have heard that the clashes between mother and daughter make your clashes with your father look like child's play.

"The Damia Reina does not wish for Albarasque to be dependent on anyone or anything, particularly not a lot of barbarians like us. No, this is all Damiar Roleran's doing; she is a wise woman and sees what others do not wish to see. The treaty between Stiborn and Albarasque will reap amazing benefits for both countries.

"It is said," Master Ilarms lowered his voice conspiratorially, "that had the Damia Reina shown any aptitude in magic, and not simply worn priestess robes, Damiar Roleran would have attempted to marry her off to your father all those years ago. I doubt that because the temple would have never approved."

"But the temple approves of my marrying one of their priestesses because I am a mage?" Adam was beginning to make sense of the world around them.

"You are one of the most powerful to be born to the ruling line in over a century, Adam. You may not match the power of the Damiar Princess, but do not belittle yourself or your abilities. Damiaren priests tested you at birth, and they were quite pleased — and somewhat surprised by what they saw. You are, in their eyes, a fitting mate for one of their own."

"Great. Now I feel like a well-bred horse," Adam muttered, wondering how anyone ever put up with this sort of behavior.

Master Ilarms laughed and clapped his hands together. "I gather you came for your usual? Books on Albarasque? Come now, Your Highness, don't you think that you have read everything that you could possibly read? I doubt that there is more I can show you. We've done language, culture, history, what more is left? If your brain is as large a sponge as I think it is, you probably know more about the history of Albarasque than your future wife.

"Of course, not being able to speak a word of her language makes conversation difficult." Master Ilarms winked, "But, then again, I don't suppose you will spending the wedding night talking."

Adam startled, embarrassed to hear the old man speaking so frankly. On earth, it wouldn't have surprised him, but here — it was unexpected.

"Oh, p'shaw, do not look at me like that. Do you think I haven't heard the conversations between you and your rogue cousins? Hagen and Marmion are the worst of influences on you, if I've said it once, I've said it a million times. And even had I not had the most great and entertaining pleasure of listening to your scandalous banter, let us not forget, that I was not always old and wrinkled. I was a young man once, and I know that more often than not your thinking ability is located between your legs rather than between your ears.

"Though, you shall not be disappointed, come your wedding night. I have had the rare and honorable pleasure of seeing your bride unveiled." Master Ilarms winked, and leaned forward a bit, "If I were a young man, I would be quite jealous of you. As it stands, I simply pity you on the day that you unveil her before the whole of the kingdom, and hope that you are not the jealous sort.

"But, you did not hear it from me."

Then with a clap of his hands, and a loud belly laugh, the scholar rose to his feet and shuffled off, promising to find Adam more books to fill his head with useless facts and trivia.

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