Ivar
***
'Your Highness, the island is in sight.' 'Thank you Kareem, order the captain to led out the anker and a rowboat.'
Ivar rolled up the piece of parchment he was writing on. 'Take this back to my parents..' 'He handed it over to the servant-boy.
'My prince, p-permission to speak free-heely.', Kareem stuttered nervously. 'Permission granted', Ivar waved with his hand, his eyes pointed at the map of Kells and Temra, searching for a suitable place to get on shore. 'I still d-don't understand why you should go on this journey alone. I'd be more than happy to accompany you. P-please..'
Ivar looked up to meet Kareems gaze. 'You know I cannot take you along with me. It's my task, my duty to retrieve the chalice. Besides it would be wiser to make myself as unnoticed as possible. I'm sorry but you'd only be in my way. Now please leave, there's still a lot I haven't figured out yet and much needs to be done before I set off.'
Kareem turned on his heel and left the prince's cabin. The prince was too determined to listen to reason. He'd disappointed his parents and his older brother, heir to the throne of Ayar, by loosing sight of the scarred thief. Now it was his sacred duty to retrieve what had been stolen under his command.
* * *
Night fell. A dark shade moved slowly over the calm waves of the Eyre Sea. When it reached mainland a lonely figure paced quickly towards the bushes. The dark eyes of the man stood grave and focused; had he been spotted? All was silent except for the waves crashing onto the beach. Nothing stirred. He proceded in the direction of the forest. There he rolled out a small blanket and tried to sleep under the stars. Would he find his thief tomorrow?
His thoughts wandered of to his parents; how disappointed they had looked at him when they heard the news. As if the king himself had died, the people of Ayar had dressed themselves in mourning; without the sacred chalice doom would for sure be awaiting this land.
At his departure none but a priest awaited him, blessing his queest, not him. The sacred chalice was what counted, not Ivar himself. The servant-boy Kareem seemed the only one who cared, and what good was he?
Without the chalice nothing would matter to him anymore. He'd have no family, no home..
* * *
'Your Highness, the island is in sight.' 'Thank you Kareem, order the captain to led out the anker and a rowboat.'
Ivar rolled up the piece of parchment he was writing on. 'Take this back to my parents..' 'He handed it over to the servant-boy.
'My prince, p-permission to speak free-heely.', Kareem stuttered nervously. 'Permission granted', Ivar waved with his hand, his eyes pointed at the map of Kells and Temra, searching for a suitable place to get on shore. 'I still d-don't understand why you should go on this journey alone. I'd be more than happy to accompany you. P-please..'
Ivar looked up to meet Kareems gaze. 'You know I cannot take you along with me. It's my task, my duty to retrieve the chalice. Besides it would be wiser to make myself as unnoticed as possible. I'm sorry but you'd only be in my way. Now please leave, there's still a lot I haven't figured out yet and much needs to be done before I set off.'
Kareem turned on his heel and left the prince's cabin. The prince was too determined to listen to reason. He'd disappointed his parents and his older brother, heir to the throne of Ayar, by loosing sight of the scarred thief. Now it was his sacred duty to retrieve what had been stolen under his command.
* * *
Night fell. A dark shade moved slowly over the calm waves of the Eyre Sea. When it reached mainland a lonely figure paced quickly towards the bushes. The dark eyes of the man stood grave and focused; had he been spotted? All was silent except for the waves crashing onto the beach. Nothing stirred. He proceded in the direction of the forest. There he rolled out a small blanket and tried to sleep under the stars. Would he find his thief tomorrow?
His thoughts wandered of to his parents; how disappointed they had looked at him when they heard the news. As if the king himself had died, the people of Ayar had dressed themselves in mourning; without the sacred chalice doom would for sure be awaiting this land.
At his departure none but a priest awaited him, blessing his queest, not him. The sacred chalice was what counted, not Ivar himself. The servant-boy Kareem seemed the only one who cared, and what good was he?
Without the chalice nothing would matter to him anymore. He'd have no family, no home..
* * *