Topic: A Sacred Trust

Ariana

Date: 2014-05-05 12:00 EST
((Takes place the morning after A Tentative Truce.))

The only child of Arlan's blood was not used to being a curiosity in his own city. Adare could usually walk from the citadel and through the streets of Phalion without occasioning more than the odd blessing from the people who lived and worked there as he went about his business. With Velasca and her retinue in residence, however, it seemed he couldn't even walk down to breakfast without feeling eyes on him from the various soldiers and functionaries she had brought with her. He was grateful for Rory's presence, though. It felt good to have someone he could talk to, to take his mind off those staring eyes and whispered rumors. But in the training yard, it was worse. Velasca's guard were there, going about their own daily routine, and Adare thought he might be sick at the prospect of having to spar with sword and practice his archery in front of professional soldiers.

By the weapons rack, he turned a particularly uncomfortable shade of sweaty pale, though only Rory could see it. "They're going to laugh at me."

Rory couldn't help but notice the eyes that glanced their way as they entered the training yard, curious about the newcomer Velasca had brought to Phalion to spy on the young prince. He could feel their eyes following him and Adare as they made their way to the weapons rack, and he felt a wave of anger rising up inside him, both protective and defensive. "Remember who you are and let them laugh," Rory whispered back, reminding Adare of his bloodline and origins. No matter his gender, he was the royal and rightful heir to the throne, not the Usurper and her daughter.

Adare nodded, his pale face creased in a worried frown as he straightened his back. "I'm not used to people watching me," he whispered, trying to explain his lack of confidence away as something out of the ordinary. But after last night's revealing conversation, Rory could be fairly sure that stage fright was one of the prince's biggest problems. Adare glanced up at the sound of a familiar voice, and he seemed to relax just a little. "Here comes Dalan," he said, gesturing for Rory's benefit.

Phalion's captain of the guard and weaponsmaster was a tall man, hair graying with age, but still fit and vital. And he wasn't alone - at his side walked the First Blade, both of them engaged in what seemed to be a surprisingly warm conversation as they crossed the training yard to join the prince and his squire.

"Just ignore them," Rory replied, knowing that was easier said than done, even for a commoner just as himself. Royal Squire was just a title, and though he had dreams and aspirations of his own, he hadn't yet considered where this new path in life might take him - if he survived. He turned his gaze toward those Adare was pointing out, recognizing the First Blade as she'd been the one to bring him here. He closed his mouth, turning silent as the pair approached, unsure of their loyalties. Though the First Blade had showed him some kindness, he knew she would do whatever Velasca ordered.

"Good morning, my prince, Rory." Dalan greeted the two as though he had done this every morning for both of their lifespans, a man who obviously knew that the audience for this morning's work was not going to help matters. "Basics today. Form and posture." He met Adare's grateful gaze with a warm smile, more fatherly than anyone might have guessed at first. "The First Blade has requested permission to spar with us this morning. So, my prince, start your drill please. Rory, let's get you kitted out."

As Shaye Dervla bowed to the prince and led the reluctant boy into the main part of the yard, Dalan smiled down at Rory. "Do you know who I am, lad?"

Unsure what was expected of him, Rory took his cues from Adare, noticing how the young prince seemed to relax in the presence of the Captain and First Blade, nor did he miss the fatherly affection with which Dalan seemed to address the prince, and tugged at his heart, reminding him of his own father's recent murder. "Yes, sir. Adare..." He broke off, worrying that he'd made a mistake in calling the prince by name. "The prince told me who you are."

Dalan laid a strong but gentle hand on the boy's shoulder as the first ring of steel on steel made itself known behind him. And it soon became obvious just why Shaye Dervla had volunteered to spar this morning. No one would laugh at anyone bested by the First Blade. Flicking a glance over his shoulder, Dalan steered Rory toward the armor racks. "Don't worry about calling him by name in front of me, lad," he told the boy quietly, selecting a leather jerkin to help Rory into. "Best to stick to the prince, or Prince Adare, while we've company, though."

Rory nodded, grateful for the man's understanding and advice. If he was going to survive here, he was going to have to learn who to trust here and be willing to listen to their advice. He heard the clash of steel behind him and turned to see the First Blade putting the young prince through his paces, curious how he would fare against the more seasoned soldier and feeling just a little bit out of his league. "I have never sparred with a real sword, sir," Rory admitted, turning back to Dalan, his face pale with trepidation. If anyone was going to be laughed at here today, he thought it likely to be him.

"Don't worry yourself overly much on that account," Dalan assured him. "I won't be starting you on a true sword until this lot have pushed off. What I have here is a practice sword, lighter and easier for a learner to use without being wooden." He tapped the second sword on his belt - it looked an awful lot like a proper sword sitting there. As he tugged the laces to make sure the jerkin was a good fit on Rory, he lowered his voice again. "I know what happened on the road, lad. Any problems you have, any worries, even if you just need someone to talk to and can't face Mila, come to me. I know what it is to lose everything on that woman's whim."

Rory arched a curious brow up at the older man, holding his gaze for a moment as he struggled to fight back the tears that he'd refused to let anyone else have the satisfaction of seeing, including Adare. But this was not the time or place for tears, not when there was a group of Velasca's thugs looking on. He couldn't help but wonder Dalan might have suffered under Velasca's rule. He wondered how she managed to remain in power if everyone hated her so, but he kept that thought to himself, at least for now. He bit back the tears in an effort to regain control of his emotions and turned his attention to the second sword at Dalan's belt. "Thank you, sir," he managed at last, glad his voice didn't betray his feelings.

With the boy secure in his own jerkin, Dalan laid his hands on Rory's shoulders, looking into the boy's eyes seriously. "I would like us to be friends, you and I," he said quietly. "My first duty, the rule that governs my life, is the safety and well being of Adare. Are you here to help that, or here to hinder it under orders?"

Ariana

Date: 2014-05-05 12:01 EST
Rory bristled at the question, stiffening defensively, and cast a brief glance at the young prince before looking back at the older man and meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "I was brought here to spy on him, sir," he replied, his voice quiet enough that only Dalan could hear his words. "But there is nothing more she can take from me but my life, and I would gladly give it to defend the prince against her cruelty."

"Then all the hordes of hell would have to get through me to get to you, lad," Dalan promised him, squeezing his shoulders firmly. "And I'll make damn certain you'll give them one hell of a fight before they reach our prince. Deal?"

"I will do my best to learn anything you wish to teach me," Rory promised, blue eyes shining with hope and pride and perhaps even a little excitement. He had always craved adventure, and it seemed he was about to embark on one, despite the tragic circumstances that had led him here.

"Right, then." Dalan released him and turned to lead the way out onto the training ground, where Adare and the First Blade were working through very basic drills. Where no one was laughing, but rather, watching with interest. And where everyone saw Phalion's weaponsmaster remove a sword from his own belt and toss it to the prince's new squire with a grin. It seemed there was a great deal of thought behind Dalan's seemingly innocent gesture.

If Dalan had some sort of underlying reason for what he was doing, Rory was unaware of it. The toss of the sword took Rory a little by surprise, but it seemed his reflexes were quick enough to react in time to easily catch hold of it. He tried to put the onlookers out of his mind and focus on his instructor, hoping he didn't make a complete fool of himself in front of those who were watching and might be looking for some weakness.

Evidently Dalan had spoken to the First Blade at some length about what little she'd done with Rory while they were traveling. He didn't attack, nor did he expect the boy to do the same. "Positions," he ordered. "One to five, let me see your posture." It was basic, standard drill, something Rory had mastered easily before ever arriving at Phalion.

Rory seemed equally surprised by the man's request, having expected to have to defend himself against a professional soldier, knowing that he didn't stand a chance, even on his best day. Most of what he'd learned, he'd learned on his own, picked up from simple observation. He went through the basic drill, demonstrating the basic positions, shifting the practice sword from one place to another, his feet spread, knees bent to keep him balanced. Whether or not he was good with a sword, it seemed he had mastered the basics.

Over and over again, he was drilled in those basics until they flowed, until he could slip easily into any one of the positions without a moment's thought. And as they went through, Dalan's motives became a little more obvious. The soldiers who lounged around watching the two boys being drilled didn't laugh or jeer; they commented with surprised respect on the good form both boys had, on the confidence with their weapons. Dalan had set his prince and his prince's squire up to show off their skill in front of these seasoned thugs, and the First Blade had gone along with it. By the time they were done with that first drill, most of the soldiers had gone off to find something more entertaining to watch.

"Right," Dalan said, rubbing a hand over his hair. "Rory, pair up with Prince Adare. Let's see how the two of you handle a fight against one another. No fighting dirty, no edge of the blade. Put each other through your paces."

Rory wasn't sure he saw much point to repeating the positions he already had memorized and mastered, but he dared not argue. He longed to learn how to properly fight and had a feeling there was a reason for everything Dalan told them to do. By the time Velasca's mercenaries lost interest and wandered off, Rory had already worked up a sweat, though it didn't seem to bother him, as accustomed to physical labor as he was. He raked a hand through his hair to push it back from his face before turning to face Adare.

Adare faced him, that worried look on the prince's face again. He, too, had worked up a sweat, and like Rory, didn't seem too bothered by it. He had obviously been drilled since he was small, and there was a fair bet that this fight was going to be a little one-sided, but then, Adare had never fought someone of his own age before. As the two boys had shields fitted to their arms, he sized Rory up uncertainly, swinging his sword in his palm to loosen his grip. But he didn't attack.

Rory tightened the grip on his sword, as a shield was fitted onto his arm. He didn't really want to fight Adare, and yet, he understood the purpose behind it. There was only one way to learn how to fight, and that was to do it. "You first," he told Adare, with a nod of his head, not feeling comfortable enough to make the first move. He watched while Adare swung his sword to get a better feel for it, but Rory remained still and watchful.

Panic flared in Adare's eyes for a moment, betraying the fact that the prince didn't actually like fighting at all, before he pulled himself together and swung his sword at Rory's shield. Just the shield, nowhere else. Dalan stepped back to watch, feeling Shaye Dervla join him. They were the only ones watching now.

Rory let the shield take the blow, sending Adare's reluctance to fight, but he wasn't sure if his reluctance was due to a distaste for fighting or the fear he might actually do some harm. Either way, Rory sensed Adare was holding back and holding back would teach him nothing about how to defend himself. "Is that all you've got?" Rory challenged, lifting his sword in a defensive pose, but not yet moving forward.

Obviously Adare wasn't used to being challenged on his reluctance, either. He glanced hesitantly toward the two watching them, but got nothing in return, no encouragement or censorship. A small frown creased his brow, a little offended that Rory hadn't even raised his sword to return the attack, and he stepped closer, bringing his sword down hard, edge to edge, on the blade in his squire's hand. Still not attempting to actually hit Rory, exactly, but it was better than before.

Ariana

Date: 2014-05-05 12:02 EST
The swords clashed with the ringing of metal on metal, forcing Rory's sword arm down, but it was not enough to satisfy his squire. If the other boy wanted to be able to defend himself against a professional soldier, he was going to have to do better than that. "That's not enough!" he challenged again. "What are you going to do if someone is trying to kill you? Come at me again!" he ordered, bracing his feet and raising his sword arm in readiness. If the young prince failed to give it some effort this time, Rory would have no choice but to take the offensive.

"He's got guts, I'll give him that," Dalan was heard to comment as Adare seemed to brace himself, strengthening his stance. The First Blade nodded, watching as the prince darted forward suddenly, the flat of his blade aimed squarely for Rory's hip. If it landed, that would be a crippling blow in a real fight.

Rory smiled as the young prince gathered his courage and came at him, anticipating his move and stepping out of the way to spin around and send the flat of his own blade crashing down against Adare's shield. He might not be a prince or properly trained, but what he lacked in knowledge, he more than made up for with courage and spirit and sheer determination.

This seemed to fire the young prince's blood a little, drawing him further into the engagement with his squire, each of them exchanging sword blows, dodging one another when they could. Every now and then, Dalan called out some instruction to one or the other of them to correct their stance, or offer some advice to avoid being dropped into the dust by their opponent. Who knew how long that fight went on, but by the time Dalan called for them to be done, Adare was actually grinning. For the first time in his life, he had enjoyed sparring.

The two boys seemed fairly evenly matched. What Adare lacked in size, he made up for with skill, obviously better trained for sword fighting than Rory, though given time and training, the taller boy might outmatch even the prince. By the time they were called to be done, both boys were sweaty and bruised, though no blood had been spilled.

"Good, lads, that was a good fight," Dalan nodded to them both. "Well matched, the pair of you, but there's some way to go. My prince, your steward would like to see you concerning the feeding of the two thousand men currently camped outside Phalion. Rory, you keep that jerkin and sword, they're yours. I'll see you both this afternoon for archery."

Rory looked a little bewildered, tossing Adare a slightly fearful look as Dalan seemed to be ordering them apart. His gaze darted to the First Blade, wondering if she was going to give him an additional lesson or if he was going to be dismissed and if so, what was then expected of him' Despite his confusion, he replied to Dalan's command with a respectful and obedient, "Yes, sir."

Shaye Dervla smiled at the concern on the boy's face. "Don't look so worried, Rory," she told him. "All I want is to talk to you."

Adare paused in the act of setting his shield back on the rack by the edge of the yard, meeting Rory's vaguely fearful gaze. "You remember I showed you where the steward's study is when we went down to breakfast?" he offered to his squire, understanding that this rather nebulous leave-taking didn't offer much in the way of reassurance. "I'll be there. Come and find me when the Blade gives you leave."

Shaye's remark did very little to reassure the boy, but he nodded in reply to Adare. "I remember," he told the other boy, eager to join him. For some reason, the First Blade made him nervous, though he wasn't quite sure why. Perhaps it was her reputation or the fact that she could finish him with very little effort if he stepped out of line.

It seemed to take no time at all for Adare to enter the citadel keep, and for Dalan to make himself scarce, leaving Rory alone with the First Blade of Arctra. Shaye looked at the boy gently, seeing the nerves and uncertainty. "I'm not going to hurt you, Rory," she promised him quietly. "I just want to talk to you. I have a job for you, in fact, if you're willing to take it." She glanced about, and gestured for him to join her. "Walk with me. This won't take long."

"So long as Velasca doesn't order you to," he replied, blanching as the words slipped out of his mouth. He and the First Blade hadn't gotten off to the best start, and he wasn't sure sure of her loyalties yet. He made no apology for his remark, but fell into step beside her, obeying as if his life depended on it.

Shaye acknowledged this with a wry smile and a nod. "True," she agreed. "But you are lucky in that respect, Rory. Velasca considers you as beneath her notice. She'll never think to order me to hurt you, and she wouldn't dare order me to hurt your prince. She hasn't even thought to order me to kill the rebel leaders, which anyone with half a brain would have done by now in her place."

"I don't understand why I was brought here. There are plenty of other boys better suited to be a squire than I," he told her, feeling confused. Why choose a relative nobody to be a close companion to the royal prince and heir to the throne" It didn't make much sense to him. Why him"

"That's rather the point," Shaye tried to explain, sighing softly. She found them a place to sit, out of the way, away from prying eyes and ears. "Ordinarily, the prince would have had a squire chosen for him from the noble ranks when he was ten years old, a child the same age as him. Velasca didn't dare at the time - there was a lot of unrest among the noble class, and she executed a large number of the nobility over a span of two years. But recently there have been rumors that the rebels plan to raise Adare as their figurehead, their own leader, and unfortunately, you have been caught up in Velasca's vicious little plan to make the prince a laughing stock. She wants to cut away any support he has, any dignity. She has had her wizards spreading stories about him, stories that paint him as an idiot child, his ghostly companion as a demon. And she picked a peasant at random to be his squire, knowing that you don't know the way of the court or of the royal life. She is counting on you making mistakes for the next few years, where everyone can see you, and every mistake you make will reflect on the prince. That is why you were chosen. I'm sorry, Rory."

Ariana

Date: 2014-05-05 12:03 EST
The boy seemed to take this in quietly, the knowledge that Velasca planned on making a fool of Adare, along with him, only fueling his growing hatred for Velasca and anyone associated with her. He turned away, his fingers curling into tight fists as if it was taking all his self-control not to explode in a fit of rage, somewhat reminiscent of another boy Shaye once knew and loved. "And what of you?" he asked, turning back to the First Blade and daring to ask such a question, blue eyes flashing with a fiery spirit he did not yet know he possessed. "Why tell me this when everyone knows you are under Velasca's control?"

Shaye considered him for a long moment, impressed that he had the nerve to challenge her on such a point, believing as he did that Velasca held her leash. "I only have to obey Velasca when she holds the Sword of Arctra in her hand," she told him, carefully laying out the truth for him. "The same can be said of anyone who holds the Sword." She sighed softly, gauging his loyalty before continuing. "I don't serve her out of choice," she told him quietly. "A long time ago, I killed the last First Blade to save the life of the boy I loved. I never intended to do it; I thought I would die to buy him some time. That boy lived, and grew up in safety, and I am fairly sure that you know him, at least by reputation. I am in love with Liam O'Connor, and anything I can do to aid in his cause, I will. But my ability to do that is finite, so long as the Usurper holds the Sword. Do you understand?"

Rory's eyes widened at this bit of information, his heart beating a little bit faster when she mentioned the name of the rebel leader, the name of the man who everyone in Arctra knew Velasca hated more than any other. It was to that man that Rory had longed to swear his loyalty and servitude in order to join the rebel cause in the fight against Velasca. He had never imagined he'd wind up here in Phalion, a companion and self-appointed protector of the royal heir. "Then someone needs to take the Sword from her so that you can be free," he told her. It seemed perfectly obvious to him what needed to be done, but he knew it wouldn't be so easily accomplished.

She smiled, glad to see that prejudice wasn't so ingrown in the boy that reason and the truth couldn't change his mind. "Easier said than done," she shrugged. "But that is partly why I wanted to talk to you. I have been waiting for a very long time for the opportunity to leave Velasca, and this morning, she gave it to me. Liam has been sighted in a village not too far from here, and she has ordered me to seek him out. Idiot that she is, she only ordered me to seek him out, nothing more. I'm leaving this afternoon, and I won't be coming back. Which means I won't be in a position to protect Adare while Valeyna is here. That duty falls to you, if you would take it up. She wants to break him, Rory, and we can't let that happen. So I am asking you to protect the prince until the rebels come for him. Will you do that for me?"

Rory's heart leaped at the realization that the First Blade had chosen to share this secret with him. If she was telling the truth - and he had no reason to think she wasn't - then the rebels would be here soon to free them from Velasca's tyranny. But there was something else Shaye had said that gave Rory pause for concern. "Adare is not just a figurehead. He is the true and rightful heir, and I won't allow anyone to use him again," he told her with vehement determination.

"Then you and I had better hope that Liam still likes me, hadn't we?" she smiled gently. "I don't want Adare used any more than you do. I met him once before, when he was a child, and I think he is exactly what Arctra needs. He's a peacemaker, Rory. He cares more for the land and the people than he does for conquest or glory. And after sixteen years of constant fighting and distrust, our land needs a ruler who cares. I would willingly die to protect the prince, and I intend to make sure that Liam and his generals feel the same way."

He weighed her words, as if silently judging her heart. Though young, he was wise enough to know a true heart, and he judged Shaye's heart was true. They both had a common cause, after all, and it seemed a common enemy. He judged Shaye's assessment of Adare to be true, though he had only known the prince less than a day. If he had his choice, he would rather go with Shaye when she joined the rebels, but he knew he could not abandon Adare. There was too much at stake, and he had taken a liking to the young prince. "I will do as you ask. I have already promised him as much, but I cannot protect him without a weapon."

Chuckling softly, Shaye leaned forward onto her knees as they talked. "There's a sword waiting for you in the prince's chamber. I was rather fond of it, it was the first one I ever bore." She grinned at him, a certain amount of knowing mischief in her eyes. "You, Rory Brennan, are one of the very few people in the land who can legally wear a weapon in the presence of the royal line. As squire to a child of the line of Arlan, you are obliged to always be prepared to defend your lord, and I think you'll be more than capable by the time we meet again."

"Velasca was foolish to bring me here. I will not make a fool of myself or of Adare. I hate her. I would kill her myself if I could." The fire in Rory's eyes flared again, reminiscent once more of that other boy Shaye loved who'd gone on to become the leader of the rebellion. He sighed suddenly as another thought came to mind, though he was unsure how much he should share with the First Blade, knowing everything he said could make itself known to Velasca if she so demanded it. "Adare is a gentle soul. He is not a soldier. He does not deserve Valenya's abuse. Velasca brought me here to spy on him. She told me that if I spy on Adare and share his secrets, she would spare my life, but she is a fool if she thinks I will obey her. She had my father killed, and I will do everything I can to protect Adare and see the rightful heir restored to the throne."

"Be careful with Valeyna, Rory," Shaye warned him quite seriously. "She delights in cruelty, and she will not hesitate to hurt or kill you, if she can get away with it. Don't take any risks, or Adare will be unprotected again."

Rory gritted his teeth, wishing he could just kill Valeyna and be done with it, but that would only stir up a hornet's nest of trouble for both himself and Adare, and he needed to protect Adare until the rebels arrived in Phalion. "I wish we could go with you. I'd give anything to meet Liam and join the rebels. Adare would be safer there." For the first time since sitting down with Shaye, his youthful impatience got the best out of him, and he pouted in annoyance.

"It's true, he would," she nodded in agreement. "But it would also paint a large target on him. Every assassin in the country would be working to infiltrate that camp and kill the only surviving heir to Arlan's line if he is raised too soon to that position."

"Don't worry, ma'am," Rory replied, that look of determination returning. He had a purpose now and a reason for being here. In his own way, he was part of the rebellion, even if no one knew it but himself and Shaye. "I won't let anyone hurt Adare. I swear it."

"Good lad," she smiled, proud of him for being so ready to defend a boy he had only known a single night. Rising to her feet, she reached out to clasp his arm, warrior to warrior. "We'll meet again soon enough. You keep yourself and Adare alive in the meantime."

It wasn't so much about defending a boy he'd only known a night as it was doing the right thing and protecting Arlan's true heir. If he and Adare became friends, that only gave him more reason to fulfill his promise. "Ma'am..." he said, as he rose to his feet, taller than her, but still as skinny as a string bean. "Thank you. I won't disappoint you."

"I know you won't," she assured him warmly. "Now go, get yourself to the steward's study. Don't let Adare out of your sight." She nodded to him, stepping back. "Thalan be with you, Rory Brennan."

He offered a respectful bow to the First Blade. "Thalan be with you, Shaye Dervla," he repeated back at her, turning to hurry away from the yard to catch up with Adare, a silly grin on his face, his heart bursting with pride and excitement. The First Blade had chosen to confide in him and trust him with a secret so important he didn't dare tell a soul, not even the prince. It wouldn't be long now before the rebels mounted their attack, and Rory would be there to see it.

((Shaye knows a good'un when she sees him! Thanks to all!))