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The Rise of the Wyrm Lord: Chapter 13

A WALK AND A WHOOSEL

Now, that is the proper way to break the fast, eh, m’lady?” Elspeth asked, beaming with pride.

“Mmmm, yes,” Antoinette mumbled, her mouth full of sweet, flaky goodness. Elspeth had prepared a plate full of triangular golden-brown biscuits called scones. Antoinette was already on her third.

“I added a touch of molasses, I did,” Elspeth explained. “That is the secret, really. Like having the best of gingerbread and shortbread all in the same mouthful. Me mum always made them that way. She learned the art of scone-baking from a splendid old Glimpse from the Blue Mountain Provinces, and now she could ma—”

There was a firm knock on the door. Elspeth opened the door. It was Aelic.

“Good day, m’lady,” he said, forgetting that Antoinette preferred to be called by her name. “Kaliam wishes me to inform you that your final test will be made ready late in the afternoon. I thought in the meantime you might like to see a little of this fair city.”

“I would,” she replied. “I would indeed.”


After a few passages and flights of stairs, Antoinette found herself walking the cobblestone streets of Alleble, Aelic by her side.

“Thanks!” she said.

Aelic’s eyebrows rose in puzzlement. “Why do you thank me?”

Antoinette grinned. “You saved me!”

“Saved you? From what?”

“From Elspeth telling me the entire history of scone-making, that’s what!”

“I thought I smelled scones!” Aelic laughed. “Yes, Elspeth does carry on a bit, but she means well. Though it may seem otherwise, she will listen more than she speaks if you have a need. And within that kindly mind of hers there is wisdom beyond that of pastry lore.”

Antoinette smiled. “So where are we going?”

“To Kindle’s place,” Aelic replied. “To the Armory of Alleble. Then, if there’s time, the market!”


The Armory of Alleble was a place that instilled quiet. Visitors spoke in whispers out of respect, but Antoinette was speechless at the threshold of the great domed hall.

“But a small portion of the might of Alleble,” Aelic said proudly.

Small portion? Antoinette wondered. To her it looked like enough armor and weaponry to equip an enormous army. Barrels full of spears, swords, and broad-bladed battleaxes, great casks filled with iron gauntlets, and row upon row of suits of gleaming armor that were mounted so they looked like scores of knights frozen in time. Antoinette wandered between them, here and there running a finger over the edge of a blade she fancied. “Will I get a sword soon?” she asked.

“Kaliam will provide you with a blade when you pass the third test,” Aelic answered.

“Right,” Antoinette replied. The test. She had put that out of her mind, enjoying the sights of Alleble—and the time with Aelic.

Aelic strode toward a high counter in the back of the armory. “M’lady, if you please,” he said, motioning for Antoinette to join him.

“Would you please call me Antoinette?” she asked, feigning anger.

“I beg your forgiveness, Antoinette,” he said. “But do come and look. Here you will see swords of special prominence.”

Behind the counter, displayed in a case lined with lush red velvet, hung five spectacular blades. Antoinette gasped. Every one of the swords looked hard and strong, and each showed tremendous craftsmanship. Two were long-bladed broadswords of silver. Each had a dark wooden grip carved with intricate designs. The other three swords each had a single groove running from blade-tip to its massive winglike golden crossguard. Their grips were black and ribbed, a little longer than one hand, but shorter than the broadswords. The three blades were identical and matchless in splendor, though in some ways plainer than the others. Antoinette noticed that there was space in the display for more swords. “Where are the others?” she asked.

“They are with the knights who use them,” Aelic said.

“And Kaliam owns one of them!” bellowed a stubbly-bearded Glimpse, and his voice echoed in the hall. He was clad in chain mail and possessed a stocky girth that gave him a squared appearance. He leaned on the other side of the counter as if he had been there all along. “The other belongs to Prince Aelic here!”

“Kindle!” Aelic objected.

“What?” complained the stout Glimpse, holding up his hands. “It is true.”

Antoinette stared at Aelic. “You’re a prince?”

“Not in Alleble,” Aelic replied, glaring at Kindle. “My father is King of Mithegard. It is only there that I wear that title. And even there, I would rather not make much out of it.”

“You’re too humble,” Antoinette said. And she laughed. “Prince Aelic. It has a good ring to it!” Aelic’s cheeks reddened.

“Since the prince here has been rendered rather speechless,” Kindle said, “I suppose I should introduce myself. I am Kindle, the keeper of this fine armory. And you must be Antoinette.”

“How did you know?”

“Well, Sir Tal was here last night, shopping for a new lance. When I asked him why, he told me he was bested by a swordmaiden from the Mirror Realm . . . called Antoinette, with red hair.”

“Oh,” Antoinette replied. “These swords are amazing. Did you make them?”

“Me? Nay, m’lady. I make a fine buckler shield, and no one can surpass my skill with chain mail, but those blades are far beyond my reach. Those were forged and fashioned by Naysmithe, the second Sentinel of Alleble—now the chief metalworker to King Eliam.”

“I really like them, especially those three,” Antoinette said, pointing. “Do those belong to the Elder Guard?”

“Those three?” Kindle asked. “Those are Naysmithe’s newest swords. But they do not belong to any of the Elder Guard. Naysmithe says they are to be wielded by the three heroes who are to come.”

“Three heroes?”

“The Three Witnesses,” Kindle explained. “There are some in Alleble who take to a legend about three mighty warriors who will save The Realm. I do not really hold to such tales, but Naysmithe does.”

Kindle was quiet for a while, staring at the three identical swords. Finally, he said, “Did you notice, magnificent and strong as they are, the three swords have no engraving, no emblem, or mark? Naysmithe says the swords are not yet finished—that they will only be completed when the time comes for the Three Witnesses to appear.” Kindle shook his head and laughed. “Naysmithe and his tales.”


The market was already bustling with activity when Aelic and Antoinette arrived that afternoon. Shacks, carts, and stands filled the streets, and hundreds of Glimpses milled about or hurried by. Everywhere Antoinette looked there were gorgeous hand-woven tapestries, intricate beaded jewelry, and lovely crafts. Smoked meats hung above one stand. Wheels of cheese adorned another.

“This is marvelous!” Antoinette said.

Aelic nodded. “Artisans from all over The Realm bring their wares to trade and to sell, for Alleble is one of the few safe open markets left.”

“Because of Paragor?”

“Yes, he is the root of most troubles in The Realm, and he has begun to move ranks of soldiers along some of the trade routes to the north and west. Still, here in Alleble merchants may find refuge, and just about anything can be found here in the marketplace—even some oddities.”

“I love to shop,” Antoinette said. “But I, uh, don’t have any money.”

Aelic frowned. “Did you think I brought you here to torture you with want? You have but to ask, and I will buy it for you.”

“Aelic, I couldn’t do tha—”

“Remember, I am a prince. I can afford it.”

Just then, they heard a high-pitched squeal. Something orange and white darted out from under a table and scampered across their path. Whatever it was disappeared down an alley. Then, two sweating, rosy-cheeked Glimpse boys went running by, looking left and right, and hollering at each other. “You let him get away!”

“Did not. I told you not to scare it.” And just like that, they too turned down the alley. Aelic looked at Antoinette. She shrugged and said, “Let’s go.”

At the end of the alley, they found the two boys with sticks poking at a small orange ball of fur. “Come on,” one boy said.

“We just want to play a bit,” said the other. Antoinette heard a tiny trilling whimper and caught a brief glimpse of two large brown eyes glimmering in the mass of fur.

“Stop that, boys!” Antoinette said in a tone harder than she intended. The two startled boys jumped and spun around.

“S-sorry, m’lady!” said one of the boys, staring wide-eyed at Aelic’s and Antoinette’s armor.

“You were hurting that—” She tried to get a better look, but the critter was balled up tight.

“Whoosel,” Aelic answered for her. “I do not think any lads of Alleble should be about tormenting a defenseless animal.”

“Begging your pardon, Sir Knight,” said the other boy. “But we just bought this whoosel, and well, they are right cuddly most of the time, but this one nipped my finger, it did.”

“And then it run off !” said the first boy.

“So you thought poking it with a stick would make it more friendly?” Antoinette asked. The two boys looked away and shifted back and forth on their feet.

“There you are!” came a booming voice from up the alley. A wide Glimpse wearing a soiled apron and what appeared to be a fur tunic came waddling up the alley. He had no beard but a very long mustache that bounced when he spoke. “I told you lads not to grab her by the tail! Whoosels do not take kindly to that.”

He took no notice of Aelic and Antoinette. “Now, here is your shiny silver coin back,” he said to the boys. “I will not be having anyone mistreating one of my whoosels.”

He handed the first boy a large silver coin, and the two boys walked quickly out of the alley. Suddenly, Antoinette felt a strange scratching at her ankle. She looked down and saw the same pair of big brown eyes staring up at her. But the whoosel had uncoiled and now nuzzled back and forth between Antoinette’s feet. It looked like a very long fox’s tail with a small triangular face, large fuzzy ears, and a tiny pink nose. It squeaked and chattered, stopping now and then to look up at Antoinette.

“I think Brindle likes you,” said the mustached Glimpse.

“Awww,” Antoinette said. She reached down to pet it, but it sprang lightly onto the top of her hand, spiraled up her arm, and sat on her shoulder. “Aelic, look! How cute!”

“Yes, it looks quite at home in your fiery red hair,” Aelic replied. “Perhaps it thinks you are its long-lost mother.”

“Very funny, Aelic,” Antoinette protested.

Aelic reached into a small brown leather pouch and handed the mustached Glimpse a gold coin. “I think we will take this whoosel, plus a little something for your trouble.”

“Why, thank you, kind Sir Knight!” he replied, staring at the coin. “I may just close me shop early today! Very generous indeed!”

“Thank you, Aelic!” Antoinette looked at him with glad eyes. “Awww!”

“Take good care of Brindle now,” said the mustached Glimpse, and he turned to walk away. It was then that Antoinette noticed the many pairs of bright eyes gleaming out from the Glimpse’s fur garment. It was really no garment at all. The Glimpse was wearing a shirt of whoosels!

“I think we should be getting back to the castle,” Aelic said. “Bring your furry new friend, and let us be on our way.”

Antoinette patted Brindle on the head and followed Aelic back out of the alley. The lanky creature squeaked happily in Antoinette’s ear, and she was grateful to have something to distract her. For the specter of the third test still loomed before her.


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