Through his eyes – a fan fiction by Sheyana
Disclaimer – Sherwood Smith owns everything in this, I'm just borrowing it for a (regrettably) short time.
Dedicated to my wonderful beta, ShannonLynn, I couldn't have done it without her! – Check out her stories, they're great.
Chapter 1 – The duel
A spy woke Vidanric, Marquis of Shevreath at dawn.
The spy bowed his head before softly telling his news; the old Count of Tlanth was dead. After this shocking revelation, the spy went on to inform him that the new count was planning to come to Athanarel as soon as possible. Danric almost did not hear the second piece of news, his head was buzzing with what the first meant. He could not help but wonder why? Ever since the Astair's letter, earlier in the year, he had been wondering what their next move would be. It seemed it was coming. The young Count, named Branaric, riding to Athanarel to gather support for their bold plan. Danric sighed as he dressed, donning an outrageously fancy knee-length tunic with a cotton undershirt and trousers. He was tying his shirt-laces just as a knock sounded on the doorframe.
"Danric? Aren't you ready yet?"
Danric shook his head with inward relief as Russav began the day's banter. "Of course I am, what do you take me for? A fop? Or perhaps a vain peacock?" Danric mock glared as his friend entered and added "Well, out with it man!"
Russav simply looked his friend up and down. "Now Danric, why on earth would I think any of those things of you?" Russav was one of the few people who knew what Vidanric, Marquis of Shevreath, was really like. Danric had worked hard in his years at Court to foster the opinion that he was a dandy who thought of nothing but clothes and sports. It had worked. Thanks to a careful intelligence system and a determination to succeed, al but a select few at court believed that 'Danric was just what he appeared to be – a true fop.
But when away from court and in the privacy of his own, or his parents', home, Danric presented an entirely different prospect. Highly educated, the young man also held great prowess in all the fighting skills necessary for waging a full-scale war. To this he added the experience to know that the success of averting such a war was far better than even the glory of winning it.
"Russav, I had some disturbing news this morning-" Russav looked up as Danric's words were interrupted by tolling bells and he spoke again quickly. "Life! They would have to sound now, worry not, tell me when we have time."
Danric sighed "It was important, but I suppose it can wait. Come Cousin, put some pace in those legs, else we'll be late for Petitioners court." Vidanric paused and then drawled in his best court voice. "We wouldn't like to give certain people that pleasure now, would we?"
As they exited Danric's chambers a mask seemed to drop over his face. Gone was the knowing smile and glint in his eyes. Instead the eyes grew haughty and the lips curved into a vacant smile. Danric swaggered smoothly along, his chosen gait sure to show off his build and keep his clothes smooth and unwrinkled.
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They arrived at the ancient throne hall just as the bell tolled for second green – the beginning of Petitioners Court. Danric and Russav strolled over to a Danric's gambling friends and Tamara, Russav's long-time flirt. Without time to settle into true conversation with any of them, 'Danric made a passing comment on the up-coming horse-race before turning his attention to the end of the hall where King Galdran sat in his goldenwood throne. Smiling slightly Danric compared his cousin's flirt with the king, it was no comparison really. On one hand you have a young, exceedingly beautiful woman and in the other you have the twisted and cruel countenance of the king.
Court came into session and the first petitioner came forward. The people had learnt long ago that matters such as raiders and high taxes were not to be brought before Galdran; the petitioner was always punished more than whoever he reported against. Instead, the court was used to try criminals. Noblemen and guards brought forward people who had committed crimes and told Galdran what they had supposedly done. The punishment for most was either death or a long imprisonment, which amounted to the same thing.
The first petitioner, a palace steward, brought forward a scruffy looking man who he had found poking around in the kitchens and Guest wing of the palace. Galdran looked momentarily annoyance, dismissed him with a disdainful wave of his ringed hand and called the scruffy man to his side. The Court stared with thinly veiled disbelief as Galdran appeared to listen as the man whispered in his ear for several moments. Every now and then throughout the speech Galdran looked up and considered a courtier suspiciously before leaning down again. Once the man had finished, Galdran called his guards and ordered them to take the man to the prison. He was to be executed the next day.
During this charade, many realized just who this man was, one of Galdran's spies. Of course, the man had to be killed because most present now knew what he was, and those that didn't would soon be told. Galdran shifted restlessly on his throne, and Danric, surprised at this display of emotion, realized that the man must have been high up in Galdrans' intelligence network. He may even have been the head - although his getting caught suggested otherwise.
The Court went on, with no items as intriguing as the first had been. This gave Danric a long time to consider all the meanings behind the strange episode with the spy. He was surprised when the bell rang for the end of morning Court and everyone 'on duty' that day slowly filed out.
Turning to Russav before the audience could depart, Danric spoke jokingly "Now my friend, it is time to discover the outcome of our wager from yester night." To the rest of their friends Danric explained "Russav was foolish enough, last night to bet that I could not beat him in a duel today. Of course I took him up on the bet. So let us change and adjourn to the practice courts to discover who is truly the best between us."
Danric grinned at Russav as their friends promptly started exchanging bets as to which of the two would win. The group quickly dispersed to their quarters to change out of the confining court clothes and into something more suited to a hard workout.
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'Danric met Russav just outside the palace building and they began the short walk to the stables.
"Are you ready?" Danric enquired, "After all, I have a reputation to maintain."
Russav was dressed casually in a cotton shirt and trousers, a cloak over his arm. Danric's dress mirrored his friend's right down to the dusty, slightly worn boots, although Danrics were of slightly better quality, as they were imported from Marvolen-Hess where he had attended a military academy. Russav grinned "Do not be so sure you shall maintain it Cousin. I'm far better than you at dancing.
"Slander! Base and foul slander" Danric mocked indignation. "I have always been better than you, as I shall prove as soon as we enter the practice courts. So come Cousin, let us hurry."
As the two men conversed, they were strolling leisurely through the landscaped gardens to the stables, as the conversation ended they slung on their cloaks and sped their pace. Upon arrival at the stables, they met up with Tamara, Nimiar, Renna, Deric and many of their other friends. Setting a groom to saddle his horse, Danric watched as the others did this for themselves. The inevitable teasing that came from this behavior he waved aside with passing comments about messing up his hair and roughing his hands.
Once everyone had finished tacking up, the party mounted and turned the horses towards the practice court, taking off at a trot. Upon arrival they dismounted and handed the reigns to waiting grooms, then swept into the huge hall and selected their usual practice blades.
Pleading off having their duel straight away, Danric bowed elegantly to Renna and asked for a match. She curtsied in reply and brought her sword up. "I shall be careful not to tousle your hair Shevreath. I would not like to be responsible for such a travesty."
Danric mirrored her action and replied, "I am glad to hear that my lady. If my hair were disheveled I would be unable to fight my friend Savona due to embarassment at my appearance, and wouldn't that be a shame." The swords clashed and the bout began, Danric immediately showing his superior skill. The rest of the party squared off as well.
Danric quickly dispatched his opponent and watched Russav's duel with Deric until that also came to an end. Russav beat Deric soundly.
"Well my cousin," Danric drawled "Shall we have at it?"
Russav bowed slightly. "Ready to loose so quickly? I had not thought you so eager to loose our wager"
"You seem sure of yourself, Russav. Who is to say that it shall not be you on the receiving end?"
As the two squared off and saluted each other, all those who knew of the bet gathered to watch. Danric and Russav shared a grin before transferring their swords to their left hands and holding out their right hands to Nimiar and Tamara respectively. Somewhere in the hall, a minstrel started playing the harp. The women looked at each other, puzzled before taking the extended hands and curtsying prettily; the two lords dropped their swords and swept the ladies into dance holds.
Looking over Nimiar's shoulder, Danric called to their bemused friends. "You must judge who performs with the most skill!" Danric and Russav began to dance, the gathered crowd chuckling at the spectacle as the two competitiors lead their laughing partners in sweeping turns and grand steps around the floor. Soon the song was over and the men released their partners and bowed before turning to the assembled crowd with questioning looks on their faces.
The ladies, once released, turned to each other and curtsied mockingly to each other. Tamara saying dryly, "I'm sure you must cede to the skill of me and my partner Nimiar?"
"Well, who won?" Danric enquired. "Russav or myself?" A barrage of replies greeted this question, most containing some question about a sword fight.
"You did not think we were going to fight did you?" Russav enquired with an innocent look on his face. "Oh no, the bet was about dancing, who was the better dancer, and we decided it must be settled today. Now, who won?"
After much deliberation the crowd decided that Russav had been better and had definitely won. Danric sighed and pulled out his coinbag. "How much gold was it this time Russav?"
"Now then Danric, you know very well it was nothing of the sort." Russav turned to the crowd. "His stake was appearing in an old-fashioned get-up to the next ball."
The crowd laughed as Vidanric sighed good-naturedly, his eyes crinkling with satisfaction. "Why did I ever agree to that?"
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