The Library of Engriole Book 1: Promise and Betrayal, Page 2

  “Sure, I’ll be quick.”

  Oakentere ran into his tent and borrowed soap from Enon; his mother sent it with him, but he had no intention of using it himself.

  In the spring and early summer, the rivers were full of water from melted snow from the mountains, so even though the weather was hot, the water was freezing. Oakentere knew he had no time to heat water, so he jumped right in and immediately regretted it. Still, he kept on until he was scrubbed down from top to bottom. When he finally got up from the water, his body was so chilled that the cool breeze felt warm. As soon as he dried himself, he put on the clothes Lord Roden had brought him. He felt like a lord himself in the new clothes. The fabric was so soft, just as the fancy dresses of Mrs. Aidento. It looked nothing like the clothes the lord wore, but Oakentere decided he was better off without the flashy colors of Lord Roden.

  “Is this the same boy?” Lord Roden exclaimed as Oakentere returned. Oakentere just posed as he had seen the girls in the village sometimes did when they dressed up for the big celebrations.

  “A squire is supposed to carry a lord’s shield and his excess arms,” he said and handed his shield to Oakentere.

  “Why do you have three swords?”

  “Easy; the long one I use while riding, because while on horseback, you need a longer range because you won’t get that near your opponent. On the ground, I can have shorter swords, and since they are lighter, I can wield two at the same time.”

  Lord Roden took the longest of the swords and a dagger, which left Oakentere with the two shorter swords, two daggers, and the shield.

  “You will always walk on my right side, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  They marched out of the camp, and Oakentere quite liked all the looks he got as they walked out.

  “It’s quite a stretch, so we need to pick up speed. I’ve heard you are quite some long distance runners from your side of the mountain.”

  “That’s the only way to get around.”

  “So you don’t mind running?”

  “No, sir.”

  Lord Roden put his heels into the horse and it immediately picked up speed. Oakentere broke into a slow run to keep up with the horse. They kept going for about twenty minutes, when Oakentere felt he was sweating and wondered what the whole point about washing was if he should run until he was soaked. Lord Roden had no intention of making him run all the way. As soon as they got out of eyesight from both the camp and Berkin, he stopped his horse and stretched his right hand towards Oakentere.

  “Get up on the horse; you will be exhausted before we reach our destination.”

  Oakentere took Lord Roden with his right hand and put his left hand on the horse’s back and jumped up. When he was seated on the back of the horse, the horse soon fell back into its stride. Oakentere had never ridden a horse before and soon wished he had stayed on the ground.

  After an hour on horseback, Lord Roden stopped and Oakentere got off. Then they walked for less than half a mile before they met up with two other knights. They were standing on the edge of a large grass-covered opening in the forest. Oakentere had seen them both at the camp, so he guessed they were knights of Berkin as well, and the knights from Gardir hadn’t showed up yet.

  “Who’s that you got with you, Roden?” One knight pointed at Oakentere.

  “That’s my squire.”

  “Your what? When did Berkin knights start to hold squires?”

  “The Gardir knights will surely have them, then so will I.”

  The conversation was interrupted by a horse’s snort at the other end of the field. Five knights on each of their horse appeared; each one had a youngster beside him, carrying his shield. The knight in the middle stood out by the black feathers that were standing up from his helmet, and Oakentere figured he was some kind of leader.

  The five knights moved towards the center of the field, and the three knights of Berkin did the same. Oakentere carried the shield on Lord Roden’s right side just as he saw the other squires did. Halfway to the center of the field, the five knights gave a signal to their squires, and they stayed behind. Lord Roden gave the same signal to Oakentere, and Oakentere stopped. The eight knights met at the middle. Oakentere knew the reason that the squires had to stay behind was because they shouldn’t hear what the knights discussed. The only problem was that Oakentere had exceptionally good hearing and a soft breeze carried the words his way. He could not help but hear every single word. The leader of them, the one with the feathers, was greeted as General Sarim. Oakentere had heard of him. He was the leader of the armies of Gardir. He was also the easiest one to hear because he talked louder and clearer than the rest.

  “I’m afraid we have to change the plan.”

  “Change to what?” Roden asked.

  “We need you to take a convoy leaving from Engriole in two days.”

  “You told us this would be different.” Oakentere registered the anger in Lord Roden’s voice.

  “What’s the problem here? Isn’t that what you do?” General Sarim ignored Lord Roden’s anger. “This is even better. You may loot it; it’s a pricey convoy.”

  “Come on, Roden; we can do this,” one knight from Berkin broke in.

  “What convoy are we talking about?”

  “It is the King of Gardir.”

  “What, is this some kind of joke?”

  “Do you see anyone laughing?” General Sarim kept his calm and looked straight at Lord Roden.

  “I thought we were supposed to aid the people of Gardir. How can such a thing help them?”

  “In more ways than you know.” General Samir lowered his voice, and the words were barely audible to Oakentere.

  “Our king is getting old, and we are afraid that he is losing his mind. We cannot kill our own king, and there is no other way of retiring him,” the general said. The rest of the conversation appeared to Oakentere as mere mumbling. He looked around the field and registered the Gardir squires still standing straight as an arrow. Oakentere straightened up as he realized he’d been slouchy.

  The men kept talking for a while before they all shook hands.

  “We will ride out first thing tomorrow morning, then,” Lord Roden said.

  “Good. We are all counting on you,” the general said. Then the general and the other knights of Gardir turned and headed back over the field from where they came. The knights from Berkin watched them for a while before they turned and headed back towards Oakentere. On the journey back, none of the men talked, and they weren’t going faster than Oakentere could follow with a fast stride. He was happy that they were moving on, and unhappy they weren’t going to Engriole. He had so wished to see it.

  Chapter 4

  Kerim, the head librarian, was walking as fast as his old legs could carry him up Herders Street in Engriole. From Engriole’s early days, they made this street wide to make room for the herds the farmers took to the market. As the city grew over the centuries, the market places moved outside the city wall, and the king built his castle opposite of the market square. The market place became the royal square. Herders Street had long been the main street in Engriole, but it always kept its name.

  Intilia followed the old man with ease. What Kerim called haste these days wasn’t impressively fast. They had been summoned to the castle by King Godobar II. Engriole

  hadn’t been Eistella’s capital city for two centuries, and the castle was now held by the High Knight of Engriole. Still, the west wing was still the king’s place to stay when he was in Engriole.

  As they reached the royal square, Kerim paused at a stone bench to regain his breath.

  “My dear Intilia,” he said, still breathing. “Every librarian has had to fight for the survival of the library and, as a consequence, our culture and history.”

  “I know, master.”

  “They’ve fought against war and poverty. But I must fight for the library’s survival against stupidity, and I fear I might lose.” Kerim turned towards Intilia and looked her ri
ght in her eyes. “My dear, I have to do this, but I’m afraid we both might end up losing our jobs today.”

  “Master, I will be faithful to your teaching as long as I live.”

  “Well.” The old man got up and faced the castle. “We can’t keep the king waiting, can we?”

  “I guess not.”

  “Will you please support me for the last bit?” Kerim held out his arm and Intilia leaned in and supported him. The old man, who, a minute ago, had been walking up the street, could now hardly walk on his own. They headed up to the guard and Kerim handed him the summoning letter he had received.

  “This is only for you; the girl must stay behind,” the guard said and waved the letter in Kerim’s face.

  “Of course, of course, but then will one of you will be so kind to help me inside? I’m an old man, you know,” Kerim said and leaned even heavier onto Intilia. The guards looked at each other and then over at the old man and the frail little girl.

  “Okay, you can bring her.” The guard returned the letter to Kerim, and they trod on into the castle. Once they were inside the castle, Kerim straightened up and walked without support.

  “One minute there, you leaned so heavily on me I actually hoped one of the guards would take you,” Intilia said.

  “You must understand that I need you more than I need the guards today."

  “How many writings of royals have I participated in?”

  Kerim and Intilia had been led in to the main hall of the castle’s west wing, where King Godobar II sat on one of the two throne chairs. Kerim was granted a chair because of his old age, but Intilia was expected to stand.

  “Twenty-four, I guess it will be, not counting your own, which I doubt you could remember.”

  “That sounds correct, and it must be over just as many years too.” The king put his right hand on his chin, making it look like he was thinking, which Kerim doubted. “You have become old during all those years, Master Kerim. You struggle a lot more during the writing.”

  “I am older, my King; that’s true.”

  “Isn’t it time you name your successor?”

  “I believe I did that last year when we met.”

  “Intilia may be superb, but she is a girl, and she is of no nobility. I will not have it.” The king rose from his throne and sneered at the old man. Intilia stayed put as if they were talking about someone entirely different.

  “What is wrong with Eymer? He’s got a nice handwriting and can also read the old scriptures.”

  “He can read them, but he cannot understand them. Words change, my King. By use and time, words will alter their meaning. If you don’t know the history and the culture in which these words were written, then you won’t understand. How can he know the value of books he doesn’t understand, and how can he protect what he doesn’t value?” Kerim spoke calmly and slowly, but with intensity in every word. “It will not be my legacy that I appointed the man that ruined the library. So if you are so desperate to please your good friend and make his son, Eymer, the head librarian, then you must set aside both law and tradition and name him without my consent.”

  “I will leave tonight, but I will be back within a fortnight, and if you won’t name Eymer by then, I will do it myself, and I will banish both you and this girl of yours from Engriole.”

  Kerim looked at Intilia—he was an old man and couldn’t care less if the king had sent him to the moon—but this would ruin Intilia as well. The old man looked down and figured it was time to face the defeat and let the king have his way.

  “And that is all, my dear king?” Intilia stepped before Kerim before he reached to accept the king’s bidding. “If so, I will escort my master back to his quarters.”

  “Yes, you may go, but remember, Kerim, two weeks.”

  Intilia aided Kerim to his feet, and they sauntered out of the great hall. As the guards opened the ten-foot-high doors, they could see Eymer and his father waiting outside. Eymer had a smug smile that Intilia was pleased would be wiped from his face for at least another two weeks. They stopped slightly and exchanged a formal greeting before they continued down the hall.

  “You should not have stopped me, my dear. I have no choice but to name Eymer. I can’t let the king ban you from the city. Your wellbeing means more than my reputation.”

  “The outcome will be the same. I would never work under Eymer.”

  “No, but there are a lot of places they could use your education within Engriole, but out on the countryside, book knowledge isn’t that sought after.”

  “There is no way I can stay in Engriole and watch the library being ruined.”

  Kerim chuckled. “Any wonder I love you? You should come with me to the moon, then.”

  Intilia tried to make any sense of what her old master meant by the moon, but let it pass.

  ***

  As the message was given that they were heading out at first light in the morning, there had been some turmoil in the camp. First, everyone needed to find their place for when they lined up in the morning. Oakentere hadn’t thought far ahead, and he really didn’t know where he should go. He couldn’t ask anyone as long as he wasn’t a part of the army. Somehow, he supposed he should be up front with Lord Roden; after all, he was his squire. Still, it sounded so farfetched that he should be up front with the knights. After they settled in their tent, they all talked about seeing Engriole. One said he spoke with someone who had been there, and they said compared to Engriole, Berkin looked like their village back home. Oakentere wanted to break in with the news they weren’t going to Engriole at all, and certainly not joining the army of Gardir. He knew it wouldn’t be welcome tidings, so he thought it would be better if it came from someone else. Besides, he wasn’t supposed to know about the change of plans. It had stuck with him in his sleep. In the morning as he made himself ready, packing the extra swords for Lord Roden and his own bow and arrows, he decided that he had to act as if he was excited to see Engriole or Lord Roden would be suspicious.

  “I can’t believe I will see Engriole,” Oakentere said when he met up with Lord Roden. Roden answered with a smile.

  “Someone told me it was much bigger than Berkin.”

  “Oh, it is a truly magnificent city.” Lord Roden handed Oakentere his shield.

  “I have called upon six hundred men and told the rest to stand by.” A young man in a full armor came riding up towards them. “We are ready to move out.”

  “Good, Ayreto. Give them the signal,” Lord Roden said.

  The man in the armor found a trumpet in his saddlebag and blew a signal twice, and the army moved. They kept a good pace. Still, it took almost an hour to lay Berkin behind them. As they marched on the plains south of Berkin, Oakentere turned several times and looked at the long people-made snake, and he wondered what it must look like when they moved out the entire army.

  “It will be a long walk today, but tomorrow will be much shorter,” Lord Roden said as they lost sight of Berkin.

  “It’s all right. I am a good walker,” Oakentere replied.

  Chapter 5

  Most of Queen Amrya's entourage had been sent back to Antuk as soon as they reached the safe walls of Engriole. On their way to Gardir, she would accompany her father, the King of Gardir, and his protection. All she had were two personal guards, Prince Endir’s nurse, and her personal maid. The wheels of their carriage made a lot of noise on the cobblestone street. As soon as they drew near King Andur’s entourage, the sound drowned in the noise of King Andur’s horses. He had two wagons with four horses pulling each, and about one hundred men on horse from his personal guard. They placed Queen Amrya’s carriage in between the two wagons. The king himself went over to the carriage from Antuk and opened the door.

  “How is my grandson doing?”

  “Fine,” the queen replied. “And if he understood that he was on his way to see the marvelous city of Genora, he would be thrilled.”

  “I am so happy you both could come and join me to Genora. Your mother miss
es you so much.”

  “But why so many guards? Are you at war with someone?”

  “Unfortunately, the road between Engriole and Genora has been dangerous of late. The mountain savages can gather war parties two hundred men strong to plunder along the way. But do not fear, I have one hundred highly trained elite soldiers, and they can easily match two hundred savages.”

  “I sure hope we don’t see anyone.”

  “I’m sure we won’t.”

  “The sun is up and we are all ready to go, it’s a long journey and we shouldn’t hesitate, my King.” A soldier in shiny armor approached the king.

  “Let’s go, then,” King Andur said and closed the door of the carriage and returned to his own. They moved slowly through the streets of Engriole. As they left the last houses behind them, they picked up the pace. The first few hours, they were still in the plains of Eistella, and far out of harm's way. The worrying bit lay across the border of Gardir, where the road would cut through the forest on several occasions, making it an ideal spot for an ambush.

  ***

  General Sarim hastened through the halls of the Gardir parliament building towards the room of the high council.

  “I need to meet with the council at once,” Sarim screamed out as he reached the guards outside the council door.

  “What is the nature of your request to the council?” The guard stayed calm and quiet, not affected by either the general’s standing or his haste.

  “Saving the life of our king.”

  “Please wait here and I will notify them.” The guard still kept his calm. General Sarim sat down on a marble bench placed outside the door as the guard went to notify the council. Despite the urgency in his manner, he knew they would keep him waiting, if not for anything else, then for the sake of keeping him waiting. As always, they needed to show that they were higher ranking than the military leader.

  “They will see you as fast as they can,” the guard said as he came back out.

  “And you told them it was urgent?” He knew they would take their time, and he was glad to give them the time. The haste he showed was just a facade. Now he could come back tomorrow with a dead king and blame it on the council. With all the royal bloodline out of play, the people would seek a leader who could restore safety to the country.