Knights of Aralia Book I: Remnants of Light

Chapter XII-Arrival

As they sailed past the little island with the stone watchtower, the banner upon the ship’s mast reached homeward, propelled by a stiff westerly sea breeze. Gulls whirled about high above, sending their shrill song down to mingle with the growing hum of activity on shore. The port of Aralia came steadily closer. It was very modest in comparison to the port of Ergamar, though it had a steady flow of sea traffic. There was, according to Maritius, another port on the south side of the island which received more still. The piers, they noted, were of exceptional length, stretching far beyond the shallows into deeper waters. The swift little ship soon pulled in alongside one and a crew tied her down with mooring lines. As soon as the vessel was secure, they stepped off.

The docks bustled with activity as many other ships, mostly Western, entered and departed the port. Fordain took in the new sights and sounds with relish. Only then did it truly begin to sink in: They had made it to Aralia! All around he saw knights, merchants, apprentices, workers, and who could say what else. And not only were there Humans present, but an abundance of Draga. Real Draga! He thought he had spotted a few from afar in Ergamar, but had been moving too quickly to take a good look then.

If only Amon could see this! he thought wistfully. Within seconds, one Draga in the garb of a knight approached them.

Just as Ingred and Elagor had said, she did look somewhat like an upright lizard. A pair of horns jutted out from the back of her head. They were rather short and blunt, but had a slight and elegant downward curve that was pleasing to the eye. Below these on either side protruded the rather small, elliptical ears. The irises in her vibrant, catlike eyes shone tawny gold in the daylight, denoting a mind as active and intelligent as any Human’s. Her throat and the underside of her lower jaw were a chalky white colour and the rest of her scales rosy red. Fordain could tell by her stocky build that she would be a formidable opponent in a scrap, though not an especially young one. The colour of her scales was not as vibrant in areas, and the tips had traces of grey.

Her feet had only four sharp-clawed toes, plus the vestigial spur of a fifth on the inner side of the ankle, which did indeed function as an actual spur for Draga when riding horses. The scales coating them were even thicker and rougher than those on the rest of her hide. Her armour was also modified to fit a Draga, which basically meant adding some sort of metal plates to cover the top of her long and sturdy tail.

The older knights saluted each other with their fists placed upon their hearts in the traditional Aralian manner.

“Greetings, Lord Maritius,” she spoke with the mild accent of a native speaker of Drakonic.

“Good day, Lady Vandermeer,” Maritius responded. “How fares the Order?”

“Nor better nor worse. What news from the mainland?”

“Much, some of it of no small consequence to us. When does the Council convene next?”

“This very evening, of course, now you’re here. We’ve been waiting for your report to have anything to talk about.”

“In that case, I promise you’ll have no shortage of material.”

“We look forward to it, then. Hello, Theo!” She greeted him with a very toothy smile—which, as a member of her species, was about the only kind she could manage.

“Good to see you again, Lady Vandermeer,” said Theo, giving a quick salute. The Draga then espied the newcomers.

“And who are these young souls? More refugees?”

“Refugees?” Elagor spat out, offended at the very idea. “Hardly.”

“Not this time, Freziel,” explained Maritius calmly. “These four have come to us of their own volition.” He looked to Fordain. “It has been a long and rough road on their part.”

Freziel saluted the four of them and gave a half bow. “Forgive me, young ones. I am Freziel Vandermeer of Draakland, Company Commander and Eighth Councillor of Aralia, Court of King Frolin. As such, I welcome you warmly to this Kingdom of Aralia.”

“Bly te kenne, Jonkvrouw Vandermeer,” said Ingred in her native Plains Drakonic. She accompanied this with the deep bow that denoted great respect in the custom of the Draga.

“U spreekt heel goed veldedraaks,” responded Freziel in kind, greatly impressed.

“It is my native tongue, my lady. I come from Hengoroth.”

“Indeed! What is your name, my dear?”

“Ingred de Haas.”

“De Haas. You are of the Oosterveld region, then?”

“Indeed, my lady. These, my friends, are Fordain Abendroth, Elagor Vos, and Evander Carro.”

“Well, if the four of you are here to stay, I’m sure you will make fine knights someday. We could use a bit of quality new blood around here, and I can sense as much in you.” She turned to Maritius. “Now then, I suppose I’d best go and inform King Frolin of your return. I will see you all another time.” She half-bowed toward Ingred, then walked away.

“I must leave you now as well,” spoke Maritius. “There are matters that require my presence to ensure all is ready ere I go before the Council tonight. I presume you will be able to lodge these worthy travellers somewhere decent, Lieutenant?” He looked to Theo.

“Righto, sir!” Theo assured him.

“Very well. I hope to see you all at the Council Chamber this evening. Open session, as always.” He turned in the direction that Freziel had gone and hastened away.

“What does ‘e mean by that?” asked Evander.

“We keep our Council sessions open to everyone during peacetime so’s they can keep an eye on their elected officials and such,” explained Theo. “‘Tis a right clever system, but this is hardly the right place to talk Aralian governance. You’ll get plenty o’ that from Lord Maritius later on. Now then, follow me!”

Theo led them off the docks and through the streets of Aralia. Upon closer examination, the city itself was not quite what Fordain had once thought it would be. The tallest building, the Council Chamber at the heart of the city, stood high above most of the others. Still, the people who gave life to the city were, to Fordain, a sight more interesting. From the merchants set up by the waterfront to the passing soldiers—some of whom bore the coveted emblems of knighthood—the four new arrivals were enthralled by everything around them. It was in many ways like Ergamar, yet more exciting still.

But there was something else as well. Something below the surface. It was almost as though, despite the bustling port and the busy streets, the city of Aralia was ill. Not with the violent, deadly illness of internal strife that was tearing Emprius apart, but with something more subtle. This was more of a slow, gnawing disease that steadily drained its victim of health until one day it was too late. Was Aralia a kingdom in decline? After everything he and his friends had been through to reach it, he sincerely hoped not. But there was something about the atmosphere that was not quite right. He watched the others to see if they could sense it as well, but their expressions were mostly of wonder and admiration. Perhaps it was just in his head.

As they walked along the main avenue, Theo pointed out the various landmarks and features of the city that he considered most interesting. The architecture looked to be modelled largely after Imperial designs, but not entirely. There were no triumphal arches like in Ergamar, for one thing. And there were certain touches, like a building with winged or horned structures, that had a distinctly Reptilian influence. Even that did not account for everything, though, and they could only assume that Aralia had adopted ideas of all its constituent peoples to form a unique style entirely its own. It was not overly ornate, but strong and simple for the most part, and they liked it very much.

All along the waterfront were several granaries and warehouses owned by Aralia, in which were kept food stores and other supplies. The businesses, shops, and inns set up along the waterfront paid a monthly sum to the city of Aralia for use of the prime space.

“You can find anything you’re after here,” said Theo. “From Imperial wines to Southern tapestries, you name it!”

“Are the sellers knights as well?” asked Ingred.

“Some of ‘em, aye. Great way to make an extra penny on the side. But most are professional merchants, come to make a fortune by rentin’ stall space up front. ‘Tis a great source of income for Aralia.”

“What currency do Aralians use?” asked Fordain.

Theo shrugged. “Same Western Denarius as everyone else. Same coin denominations too. One copper coin equals one denarius. Ten coppers in a silver; five silvers in a gold. There’s some as’ll just trade stuff for stuff too, of course. Now, actual knights are paid a set amount per week based on rank, years of service, things like that. Part of it’s paid in foodstuffs, and of course there’s extra given out sometimes for especially valuable services.”

Past the waterfront businesses and houses were several larger, prettier buildings which appeared to be multi-storey living quarters of some sort.

“These are the Wolves’ quarters,” Theo told them as they walked by. “All our companies have animal names here. There’s the Squirrels, the Eagles, the Bears, and so on. Of course, none of ‘em quite compares to General Maritius’s Wolves.” He grinned as he added, “But then, I reckon I’m a tad biased there.”

“They look splendid,” commented Fordain.

“They are. Right comfortable, too. And they’ve got the best views of any quarters in the city, save for the king’s, of course.”

“Where does the King of Aralia reside?” asked Ingred.

“The king and queen get their own quarters on the top storey of the Council Chamber. They’re really nice lodgings from what I hear, but they ain’t used much during the day.”

As they walked on, they passed another tall tower in a little plot all its own and surrounded by a low dividing wall, which gave it a little yard in which grass actually grew about its base. A quaint cobblestone path led from the street to its door. It was not unusual in its construction, other than the fact that it was at least a storey higher than the buildings around it, and it had numerous open port windows arranged in a perfect circle around the top with another ring of windows just below it. It also had the banner of Aralia hanging from a balcony on the front of it.

“What is that for?” Ingred asked first.

“That’s the Tower of the Messenger Corps,” replied Theo, stopping to look it over. “It houses all the birds of the Aralian Messenger Corps, who are trained to fly out and deliver messages abroad and bring back reports from knights on the mainland.”

“Birds?” repeated Elagor.

Theo nodded. “Ravens. They’re a bit hardier ‘n other birds, and they’re right smart besides. The concept was one of King Alenius’s. The Tower was built a little after he died.”

“I’ve heard of these posts,” remarked Ingred. “There’s a whole network of them throughout the major cities of the West, as I understand it. Or at least there used to be.”

“Aye. But they ain’t as commonly used no more, what with the shortage of folks as knows how to run ‘em. Pity, really. They’re right handy to have around, no question. ‘Tis a lot quicker to get a message to our knights on the mainland by raven if they’re near a major centre than it is to send a courier by boat. It makes a real interestin’ study, if you ever care to go up and take a look around. There’s allus someone up there mindin’ it. Usually our own Lord Janssen or one of his assistants.”

Fordain looked to the top of the tower. It must be quite something to see inside, what with all those birds about. He had heard ravens in the woods of his homeland before and seen their shadows on occasion, but he had never actually observed one up close.

“Can anyone use it?” Ingred questioned further.

“Aye, for a small charge. Unless it’s official Aralian business, o’ course. Then it’s free.”

“Where are the nearest posts from here?”

“Ergamar in Emprius and Halferon in Hengoroth.”

“Interesting.” Ingred assumed a pensive air as they moved on.

“That there’s the great Aralian Bathhouse.” Theo pointed out a large, Imperial-style complex with steam emanating from crevices unseen along the sides. “Aralians got a tradition of keepin’ clean from the Imperials and Pirakoans, and we try to bath at least once or twice a week. Some go every day, if they’ve got the time.” He turned and let them follow then. “Let’s get movin’. The best is yet to come.”

Continuing just a little farther down the main street, they soon came into view of the main square in all its splendour. And a stunning sight it was! For there, in the very centre of the square, stood high and proud the heart of the city itself: the Golden Tree of Aralia.

The newcomers looked on in wonder at its sheer magnificence. The tree was all they had imagined and more. It stood a good thirty feet high with its branches outspread, and its leaves were perfectly formed in their size and shape. Its bark indeed revealed just the slightest hint of the golden hue for which it was so widely known, though on this somewhat cloudy morning, it shimmered only a little.

“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” remarked Theo.

“It’s beautiful,” said Ingred.

“It’s glorious,” agreed Fordain, recalling his dream of this very tree just weeks before. “After a thousand years the tree still stands.”

“That it does,” said Theo. “I ‘member the first time I saw it a couple years back. I’ve seen it lots of times since then, and still it never grows old.”

They stood and marvelled at the Golden Tree as it swayed gently in the wind. Such an ordinary tree in most respects, yet so much more. In their minds each one of them conjured up noble images of the past and of all the ages and history this one tree had lived through just so they could see it here on this day. The great Council Chamber rising up high and proud behind it made a deep impression in Fordain’s mind—one he knew would remain all his life. Finally, after a long and reflective moment, Theo sighed, recalling them once more to the present.

“Stay close,” he advised them as they neared the city’s centre. “We’ll have to pass through the main square to reach your quarters near the west end. I’ll have to talk to the quartermaster about gettin’ you official residence status since you’ll be stayin’ on and all, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”

No sooner had he said this, it seemed, than Fordain found himself cut off from the others. He had been momentarily distracted by the picturesque waving of the blue, silver, and gold Aralian flag above a tower in the distance and not kept an eye on his companions. That’ll teach you, he reprimanded himself. Distracted once more by his own reprimand, he bumped into a burly brown-haired boy only a bit older than himself.

“Sorry, mate,” he said quickly.

“It ‘appens to all of us,” said the boy in his nautical dialect. “You’ve just arrived ‘ere, I take it?”

“Yes,” replied Fordain.

“Didn’t think I reckernized you. What’s yore name, mate?”

“Fordain Abendroth of Emprius.”

“North Emprius, I’ll wager by that accent. I’m from Emprius too. East coast, near the Golden Forest. Name’s Lampolo. Lampolo Terentius Aretto, though everybody calls me Lamp. Me brother and I just got ‘ere a month ago ourselves.” He paused again, taking a deep breath and letting it out. “I love this sea air, don’t you? Reminds me of ‘ome, summat. Say, you ‘eaded that way?” He indicated west with a nod.

“I am.”

“Well, looks like we’re to be neighbours then. They put all new arrivals and trainees in the flats, as they call ‘em. Nice places. I think you’ll like ‘em.”

“Thank you, Lampolo. Er...Lamp.”

Lampolo smiled and winked. “Now you’re gettin’ it, mate. Well then, must be off. I’ve errands to run for me brother just now. Such a lazy sot ‘e is at times. Any’ow, s’pose we’ll meet again soon enough.”

“I look forward to it. Goodbye, Lamp.”

“See you later, neighbour!” replied the chipper young man before scurrying off.

Standing before a clean stone building with gardens hanging down from its side in the Imperial style, Theo, Ingred, Evander, and Elagor watched for any sign of their companion.

“Where doest reckon ‘e’s got to?”

“I have no idea, Evander,” replied Ingred worriedly.

Elagor, however, had seen Fordain disappear. He had tried to catch his attention, but risked falling behind himself. So, he had carried on, certain that his friend would find them. And now it was he who saw Fordain approach.

“Yonder,” he said simply, pointing.

“Fordain!” Theo spoke. “Where have you been?”

“Meeting the locals,” replied Fordain with a sheepish grin.

“Right. This way.” Theo directed them toward a sheltered staircase around the side that led to the second floor. “Your quarters are upstairs. They’re simple, and a little more crowded ‘n the ones higher orders of knights get, but I think you’ll find ‘em much more accommodatin’ than layin’ up on the open road.”