Chapter 2 – A Prophecy to Be Fulfilled
The supper bell rang, and Joren was already standing outside the throne room, waiting for his admittance to see King Jonathan and Queen Thayet. He couldn't help but be curious about their reason for 'requesting his presence.' Only mildly curious, of course.
A guard emerged from the ornate and polished wooden doors leading to the throne room and motioned Joren to follow him.
"Presenting Sir Joren of Stone Mountain," the guard announced before bowing low to the King and Queen and the raised dais and retreating to stand next to the doors. Joren felt a tingle of pride when he heard the title that validated all his years of struggling.
"Please come forward, Sir Joren," King Jonathan said. There it was again, the same feeling of pride.
"Your majesties," Joren greeted, giving both of the monarchs an elegant bow. When he stood up, he realized that Sir Gareth the Younger was standing to the king's right.
"Now, I'm sure you're wondering about the reason for calling you here," the king began, his sharp blue eyes studying the knight's appearance. "I have to say that I am curious myself. Sir Gareth has assured me that he can explain. Gareth, please begin."
Sir Gareth cleared his throat and took a step forward, so that the light from the nearest candelabra surrounded him. "As you know, I am often researching to assist the king. Today, while in one of the archive rooms, I found a tablet of scrolls that was of unmistakable importance. Written in the Old Language, it contained many prophecies, a quarter which have already been fulfilled. As I was reading through these prophecies, completely astonished, as you must understand, I came across a very specific description."
Joren listened impatiently, still waiting for the reason Sir Gareth's old musty scrolls pertained to him.
"The description said very clearly, 'the one of ice who has passed from the darkness and into the light.'" Sir Gareth paused and looked at the king for a reaction.
"Interesting," King Jonathan said, stroking his neatly-trimmed beard. "But how does this certain prophecy involve Sir Joren? It is true that he barely passed the Chamber of the Ordeal the first time, and then was redeemed the second time, so the second part of the descriptions seems to hold. However, he is from Stone Mountain, not Ice Mountain."
"Sire," Joren spoke up, needing to clear his suddenly tight throat first, "That is not entirely true."
The gazes of the three figures of authority suddenly turned to focus on him.
"Go on," the king prompted. Queen Thayet was sitting forward in her throne, eager to hear as well, and Sir Gareth looked satisfied.
"Well, my father is from Stone Mountain, one of the direct descendants of the original lord, Lord Brackton. However, my mother is from the house of Friolte."
"Friolte, otherwise known as the 'Ice Plains,'" Sir Gareth added unnecessarily.
The king scowled. "I know that, Gareth. Continue, then. If the prophecy mentions Sir Joren, then he must be important in some way."
"It became less specific about what exactly he is to do," Sir Gareth said almost apologetically. "From what I could translate, it has to do with magic and a quest."
Joren rolled his eyes. 'That was helpful.' Not able to keep his comments to himself, he said, "With all due respect, Sir Gareth, that could be anything. And more importantly, how am I supposed to be involved with a quest and magic if I do not have the Gift myself?"
"A valid question," Queen Thayet agreed.
"Also, we are not at war right now," King Jonathan said. "Tortall is at peace, however brief it may be, and even the Carthakis, Copper Islanders, and Scanrans seemed to have turned inward to address their own problems. How crucial can this magical quest be?"
"Your majesties, the current cessation of battle is more of a reason to support the quest than not. If Sir Joren's combat abilities are not needed in war, then he can be spared to fulfill the prophecy. And Sir Joren, it's true that you don't possess the Gift, but nowhere in the prophecy did it say that you should." Sir Gareth looked at his small audience. "Often, the consequences of a prophecy are so wide-spreading that we cannot begin to imagine them. Still, that is no reason to defy fate."
"But to just run off in order to fulfill some vague piece of writing-" King Jonathan began, his voice tinged with argument.
"My king," Queen Thayet interrupted, her voice quiet but commanding. She laid a hand on the King's arm, and he turned so that she could whisper something in his ear.
Sir Gareth looked to the side, allowing the two to have their own private counsel. He had the feeling that the Queen was on his side. Joren, meanwhile, stood stiffly, not knowing what to think. On the one hand, he was eager to leave the boredom of the castle. On the other hand, he couldn't help but worry that this prophecy would not leave unscathed.
A moment later, King Jonathan turned back to address everyone in front of him. "It has been decided. Sir Joren, you must fulfill your duty as it has been written by the Gods."
Sir Gareth, at hearing his ruler's command, couldn't help but smile happily. Joren, on the other hand, stared at what the king had just said. The suddenness of the decision shocked him.
"Just like that?" he asked harshly. "I have no say in this matter?" For all he knew, he was going to run off to his death.
"You are a knight, Sir Joren," the king answered. "It is your sworn oath to obey your king's command. Furthermore, even if I were to disagree with the prophecy, I could not. The Gods have already ordained your fate."
Biting his lip to keep back a retort, Joren bowed to his superiors. "As you wish. When do I leave on this magical quest?" he asked, anger clear in his words.
King Jonathan raised a brow at this insubordination, but decided not to call the knight on the offense. "As soon as possible."
"And I leave alone?"
"Sir Gareth, did the prophecy say anything about companions?" King Jonathan asked, turning to his advisor.
Gareth hesitated, knowing that if Joren was upset now, he would be furious at what else the prophecy mentioned.
"Go on, we must know," the king prompted.
Joren knew that whatever Sir Gareth said, he wouldn't like it. That much was obvious from the older man's expression.
"Well, it stated that 'the one of ice who has passed from the darkness and into the light' is to be accompanied by 'the woman who rides like a man with youth in her face and light in her hand.'"
King Jonathan frowned. "Lady Alanna?"
Joren was ready to stab himself with his dagger. "No, not Lady Alanna," he muttered angrily. "Mindelan." The Lump.
"He's absolutely right, your majesty," Sir Gareth confirmed. "Of the two lady knights in Tortall, Keladry of Mindelan is the younger, and the prophecy explicitly says 'youth in her face.' Therefore, Sir Keladry is meant to protect Sir Joren on the quest."
"We'll need to call her in, then," the king said, sighing. "I pray that this quest will not be a foolhardy adventure. Two of our best knights are at risk." He looked up at Joren, who was surprised to see the weariness in his king's eyes. "Sir Joren, you are excused. I will call for you soon."
Joren bowed again. "Your majesties. Sir Gareth." Then he left, anger and anxiety warring in his heart.
* * *
The next morning, Kel awoke earlier than usual to make up for her lateness the day before. The sun hadn't risen yet, and the room was dark. She dressed quietly, careful not to wake Lalasa, and set out a dish of seeds for the sparrows next to the window ledge. Jump looked at her curiously before settling back down at the foot of the bed. Taking a small piece of parchment from her desk along with a charcoal pencil, she left the room.
The halls were empty, and she didn't even pass any servants as she went to the curtain wall, her customary sketching spot. After she had finished sketching maps of the land in all directions and throughout the four different seasons, she was now working on the sketching the city itself. She had never before drawn it during the sunrise, though, and she was eager for the challenge.
She chose a good vantage point and put her pencil to the paper, waiting for the sunrise. Moments later…
She stared at the glorious colors, unable to prevent a joyful smile from covering her face. It was a wonderful sight, to see Mithros bless the new day.
"Indulging in ladylike pursuits?" a dry voice asked from behind her.
Her pencil left a stray mark as she turned around to regard her unexpected companion.
"Lord Wyldon," she said, surprised. Then she blushed lightly, recalling his question. "No, sir, it's just been a hobby during the summer. I've had nothing else to do, besides training."
He nodded and stood beside her, staring over the city and its empty streets. "It's amazing, isn't it, how quiet Corus can be at the right time. Makes you feel almost peaceful."
"Yes, sir," Kel answered, unsure of what he wanted her to say.
"Is it so different," he asked her without meeting her gaze, "being a knight now?"
She shrugged. "No, my lord, not very. I still feel like I'm training and preparing for something…I just don't know what."
"You'll find out soon enough," Wyldon replied. "Trust me, Sir Keladry. And when you find out, you'll hopefully feel better, not worse." He turned around to leave, pausing to put a strong hand on her shoulder. "You've always managed to defy my expectations. Mithros willing, you'll do it again."
"My lord?" she asked, confused, but he was already too far to hear her. She remembered then that Wyldon ran up and down the wall every morning to exercise his lungs.
After that meeting, she couldn't calm down enough to sketch well. She tried several more times to capture the sleeping city, but to no avail. The sun was bright and looming in the east when she finally gave up, ripping her last failed attempt to shreds.
"Now, now, there's no need for that," an unmistakable voice said.
Kel spun around, remembering at the last minute to be as smooth and calm as an undisturbed lake. She would have to, considering that Joren had appeared soundlessly and looked like he was eager for a fight. 'Perfect. Absolutely wonderful.'
"Acting the Lump again, I see," he said, his cold eyes glinting dangerously. 'Yes,' Kel told herself, 'he definitely wants a challenge.'
"What do you want, Joren?" she asked as levelly as possible.
He stepped closer to her, intentionally invading her personal space and making her wary. "That's a loaded question. Shall we just say that I wanted to enjoy the beautiful sunrise?"
"You missed it by several hours," Kel pointed out.
Joren stared at the sky, frowning as if the sun had played a cruel trick on him. "Hmm. So it seems, Mindelan." Ignoring her warning gaze, he took another step closer.
"What do you want?" she repeated, with more authority this time.
He shook his blonde head at her, as if he were admonished her bluntness. "Mindelan, that's no way to talk to me. You should be nicer, considering that you interrupted my fun yesterday."
Her cheeks colored at the memory. "You should lock your door if that's the kind of fun you like to have."
"The kind of fun?" he echoed. "What other kind of fun could there be? Besides, sometimes I wonder what you do behind your locked door with that pretty little maid of yours."
She frowned at him, not understanding what he was implying. Why would she and Lalasa do anything when neither of them preferred women. "What does that mean?"
He stared at her for a moment, disbelief on his face when he realized that she was honestly confused. Then he laughed, a genuine laugh that made her shiver, but not unpleasantly. "Gods, Mindelan, you're completely clueless."
One step more, and he was suddenly standing toe to toe with her. "Too damn clueless."
She tried to lean away from him, but she was already trapped against the edge of the wall. "And you've gone insane," she retorted, deciding to give him the fight he so sorely wanted. She had nothing else to do that day.
"Maybe," he answered almost thoughtfully. "It's a possibility I've been considering." He leaned his face closer to hers, until his eyes dominated her field of vision. She became lost in them. They were so cold that she almost shivered again, but also beautiful to see. "You know, Lump, you should settle down. Tortall is peaceful. You can find a husband and start a family now."
She glared at him, the Yamani mask dropping away, and swiftly pushed him away from her. "You've told me that before, and I didn't pay attention to you then. Why would I now?"
"Shut up," he snapped, giving her an answering push. "If you were smart, you'd find something else to do with your life. What have you accomplished as a knight? Nothing at all. You're not important to anyone, Lump, and you should remember that."
Kel knew her knighthood was important to at least one other person besides herself. The benefactor who sent her useful, very expensive gifts for Midwinter holidays and birthdays.
"Maybe you're talking about yourself, Joren," she began, letting the cruelest words be said. "You almost failed to become a knight. No one believed in you after that first time. And now, you aren't doing anything useful with the second chance the Gods granted you. You're a greater failure than me. At least I passed the Chamber the first time."
His eyes narrowed dangerously, and she knew that she had pushed him too far. That realization didn't save her from his fist, which suddenly smashed into her left cheek. The sharp pain made her see a flash of light, but she ignored her temporary blindness and ducked low, punching him twice in his stomach. She heard a stifled groan.
A strong hand grabbed her shoulder-length hair and yanked her painfully upright. "You asked for it, Mindelan," his low voice murmured in her ear, his breath warming her ear. She jerked her head to the side, cracking her skull with his. As soon as he let go of her hair, she grabbed his arm and twisted it so that it propelled his entire body past hers.
She rushed towards him but tripped on his quickly extended foot and ended up lying on the stone with Joren pinning her down.
"Get off," she bit out, struggling uselessly. He weighed more than her and had pinned her so effectively that she couldn't buck him off, not even with the special self-defense moves she had learned from the Yamanis.
"Not a chance, Lump." He stared at her face, which was now carefully blank again. "You were stupid. You can't just rush blindly at an opponent and expect to win. Why don't you go back and sketch your little pictures, and leave the combat to real knights."
He released her slowly, making sure she wouldn't try to attack him again, and stood up. "And next time think twice about pushing me."
She glared at his retreating back, wanting to run after him and tackle him to the ground but knowing it would be stupid. After all these years, he was still the best at unarmed combat. This fact only infuriated her more. The contempt in his cold eyes, and scorn in his well-shaped face. It felt like she was still a page on probation.
* * *
"You look like you're in a rotten mood," Raoul commented during lunch, looking across the table at Kel, who was frowning as she stabbed her carrots.
"I am," she replied, before putting the vegetables in her mouth and managing to even chew angrily.
"Care to share why?"
She shook her head. "It was stupid." And it partially was. She shouldn't have allowed Joren to provoke her into fighting like that. Still, the things he had told her… Even though she repeated to herself that they were simply lies, she couldn't help but hear them in her head, again and again. 'You're not important to anyone, Lump…leave the combat to real knights…'
"Kel," Raoul said sharply. "What happened this morning?"
"How do you know something happened then?" she asked, looking back down at her food.
He motioned at the fresh bruise on her cheek. "It's looks new. Does it hurt?"
"No." It throbbed painfully.
"Liar."
"So what if I am? You're not my knight-master anymore. I don't have to tell you everything, Raoul."
The Knight Commander sighed. "No, you don't. But I hoped that you would, on account of our friendship."
She cringed when she saw the soft hurt in his dark eyes. "I'm sorry. It just bothers me to talk about it. This morning I was on the curtain wall, sketching the sunrise and the city, and Joren came up to me."
"What did that bastard do?" Raoul demanded. Even though Kel had never told him about Joren's bullying herself, the standard castle gossip had been enough.
She was ashamed to even admit it. "I let him provoke me, and I attacked him. He won."
"I don't blame you," he muttered. "Sometimes I'd like to thrash him like his mother never did."
"Raoul?"
He noticed her surprised expression. "What? Oh, loosen up, Kel. A knight is supposed to be honorable, of course, but even a priest would be hard-pressed to avoid fighting with Joren. He's just one of those types."
"It's not right, though. How can someone like him be a knight? He failed the Chamber the first time. Why was he allowed to redeem himself? No one else in history has received a second chance."
"Perhaps it doesn't seem right, but you're looking at it from the wrong perspective. We're simply mortals," Raoul explained. "Who are we to say what is right or fair? Joren must have some sort of purpose in the greater scheme of things, good or bad, for the Gods to have spared him."
Kel nodded, knowing that he was right, as always. But she wanted a purpose, too. She needed some sort of validation that showed her she was on the right path.
Raoul turned his attention back to his lunch, letting her think. They both looked up when a servant stood next to their table.
"Sir Kelandry, the king requests you in the throne room immediately," he said.
She exchanged a quick glance with Raoul before cleaning her tray up and following the servant out of the mess hall.
"Do you know what this is about?" she asked him.
He shook his head. "All I know is that it's important."
They approached the throne room and the wide doors swung open before she even had a chance to compose herself.
"Presenting Sir Keladry of Mindelan," someone behind her announced before the doors closed with a thud.
Kel stared at the sight before her. She wasn't alone for the audience with the king. Queen Thayet sat beside him to his left, and Sir Gareth stood on his right. What astonished her more was Joren, who was standing in front of the throne dais with his back towards her. 'What is he doing here?'
She approached the dais herself and decided to bow, because she had no skirts with which to curtsey properly.
"Keladry, your assistance is required," King Jonathan said immediately when she came to stand beside Joren. He didn't miss how the blonde knight took a step away from her. Frowning, he continued. "Sir Gareth has found a tablet of prophecies, and you are apparently mentioned in one, along with Sir Joren."
"What does it say, sire?" she asked, her face calm.
The king nodded at Gareth, who stepped forward. "You are supposed to accompany Sir Joren on a quest to find and harness a new form of magic. The details of the quest are very vague, and all I can definitely say is that you, Sir Joren, and magic are involved."
That explained the frown on Joren's face. He obviously didn't want someone like her involved. 'Well, too bad for him.'
"This will be dangerous, Keladry, if only because we don't know what will happen," King Jonathan explained. "The only reason I agreed to allow you two to leave is that we are enjoying peace right now. You need to understand that even if Tortall comes under attack and goes into battle, you and Sir Joren are to continue on your journey."
"But sire, why?"
"If you leave, you have already set the prophecy in motion. It is hazardous to try to change destiny," Queen Thayet explained.
Kel nodded. "I understand."
"So will you be ready to depart soon?" the king asked both of the knights before them.
They nodded. "I need to first write a few letters to my family and friends to explain my departure," Kel said. She ignored how Joren rolled his eyes at that. He obviously did not have anyone who would miss his absence.
"Then write your letters with care," King Jonathan said. "Be ready to leave tomorrow morning."
They recognized that they had been dismissed, and left the throne room. Kel immediately headed towards the knights' quarters, and was disappointed when she realized that Joren was going the same way.
She walked faster, determined to get away from him as quickly as possible. Just because the prophecy wanted them traveling together didn't mean she had to be near him right now.
"Scared?" he asked suddenly, his smooth voice startling her.
She stopped and swiveled around. "What?"
"I asked if you're scared," he said again, walking towards her and closing the distance between them. For a moment she expected him to move into her personal space again, but he paused a few feet away.
"Of what?"
"Of what we're going to do," he clarified as if she were as stupid as an ogre.
She thought for a second before shaking her head. "No, I'm not scared. Maybe later I will be, but right now I'm more excited."
"That's why you're a fool," he told her, brushing past her to reach the door to the knights' quarters.
"Wait," she demanded, catching up to him and grabbing his arm impulsively. He flicked a disdainful glance at her hand on his shirt and she immediately broke the contact. "Why is it foolish to look forward to having a role in a prophecy? It's better than sitting around the palace with nothing else to do."
"How do you know what kind of role you have?" he asked in response. "For all we know, one of us could be meant to die on this magical quest. Maybe both of us. And I, for one, do not like being told what I am meant to be. I would rather make my own damn decisions instead of listening to a stupid piece of dusty paper."
He turned away from her before she could answer and pulled the door open. She looked at him, speechless, when he said before closing the door, "And Mindelan, make sure you don't bother me tonight. I have some letters of my own to write."