The Heir of Jeragoth

“Well, are you going inside?” Neridius asked.

High Baron Bertrand Candril didn’t answer his long-time advisor right away. He sat on his horse and stared down the dark cobblestone road towards the small, hedge bounded property, while the evening mist fell onto his shaggy mane of thick brown hair. His thoughts tumbled over themselves. What had started as simply a way to relieve his physical desires had now become a near all-consuming passion that quite frankly terrified him. Erienne’s beauty had captivated him the moment he laid eyes on her, but it was her charm and gentle nature that kept him coming back to the brothel from which he finally bought her.

He shook his head. He had long voiced his disdain for nobles who bedded their slaves, but could not seem to bring himself to sign a Writ of Release for Erienne. This had wreaked havoc with his conscience and caused a year-long rift between him and his brother. Bertrand looked over at the older man and said, “Maybe I should just let her go. Erienne has the child and she’ll be well taken care of.”

Neridius turned his horse so he could face Bertrand head-on. “It’s too late for that. This is no ordinary child. This child is the Heir.”

“My son is the legitimate heir to the Candril barony,” Bertrand snapped.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” Neridius whispered angrily. “This child is heir to something much larger than your meager barony. She must be protected.”

“How do you even know any of this is real?” Bertrand asked.

“I know what the prophecies say,” Neridius replied. “They all point to this moment.”

“Damn the prophecies,” Bertrand growled as he dismounted. “Come on, let’s go in.”

They tied their horses at the rail and walked up the flagstone walk towards the whitewashed front porch. The house was well lit and they could see a woman passing back and forth behind the lace curtained window.

When Bertrand opened the front door, the housekeeper, Bretta, seemed surprised to see him. She curtsied hastily, “Good evening my Lord,” she said a little breathlessly. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon. The babe was only born an hour ago.”

“Well, I’m here,” Bertrand answered brusquely. “How is Erienne?”

“She’s doing just fine, my Lord. The labor was long, but the midwife helped her through it. She’s a strong girl my Lord, and the babe was small.”

“The child,” Neridius asked impatiently, “How is the child?”

The housekeeper looked at him curiously as she closed the door behind them. She answered, “Oh she’s fine too, my Lord.” She sighed, “By all that’s holy, she’s the most beautiful newborn babe I’ve ever seen.”

“Is Erienne awake?” Bertrand asked perfunctorily.

“I think so, my Lord. She just finished nursing the wee babe.” Without another word, Bertrand headed up the stairs with Neridius following close behind.

When he got to Erienne’s bedroom, Bertrand stopped just inside the open door, and held onto the doorknob in a daze, completely enthralled by the tableau that was laid out before him. Erienne sat in the large bed propped up by several pillows. The light of the crystal oil lamp shone on her face as she sang softly to the small bundle cradled in her arms. The soft light that glowed on her face and white dressing gown made her look ethereal. Bertrand felt such a sense of peace that he wanted to stop time right at that moment and keep it that way forever. Then Erienne looked up and her eyes lit up with joy, “Bertrand! Come see how beautiful she is.”

Bertrand went into the room and carefully sat down. The bed dipped under his weight. Erienne leaned forward and held out the child to him. “Do you want to hold her?” she asked.

Bertrand cleared his throat and said, “All right.” He took the baby from Erienne, and held her gingerly. She was so tiny he could span her whole body with his large hands.

Erienne laughed lightly and said, “You’re not going to break her, you know.” She paused and said somewhat hesitantly, “I named her Alana, after my mother. I hope you don’t mind.” Bertrand was too busy gazing raptly at his newborn daughter to do more than murmur agreement and neither one of them noticed the startled look on Neridius’ face. “And you know,” she continued, “She’s got that same strange birthmark on her back that you have on yours. And it’s even in the same place.”

Bertrand stared at her intently. He gently handed Alana back to Erienne and said, “Will you show me?” Erienne looked at Bertrand curiously and then nodded. She put Alana down on the bed and carefully unwrapped her from her pale green swaddling blankets. Alana started to whimper from the chill in the room and Erienne picked her up and held her against her chest, giving both Bertrand and Neridius a good view of the harp-shaped birthmark that lay right between her shoulder blades. Bertrand let out a long slow breath. Alana started to whimper more loudly and he said, “You should cover her up again. She’s probably cold.”

Neridius approached Bertrand and said quietly but urgently, “My Lord, the child must be protected. She cannot stay here.”

Erienne’s head shot up and she got a frightened look on her face. “What is he saying?” she asked Bertrand.

“Nothing to worry about,” he answered quickly as he got up from the bed. He took Neridius firmly by the arm and said through clenched teeth, “We should talk about this outside,” as he shoved the older man out of the room. Bertrand closed the door behind him and rounded on Neridius. “What in all the hells are you at, talking about taking that child away with Erienne sitting right there? The babe’s barely more than an hour old. You cannot possibly think to take her away from her mother.”

“Bertrand,” Neridius insisted, “This child must be protected. She is very important. The prophecies cannot be ignored.”

“The prophecies and all the prophets can burn in hell for all I care. I will not take Alana away from Erienne. What am I going to do—have Mirasol raise her? Mirasol would as soon kill her as look at her. She wouldn’t be any safer at Candril than she is here. At least here she has a mother who’ll love her.”

“Bertrand Candril,” Neridius said severely, “You may be able to ignore and deny the prophecies, but I cannot. Alana could be the one we have been waiting for. She must be closely watched by you. She cannot be left to the care of a girl who is not even twenty. She…”

“Damn you man,” Bertrand growled in fury, “You can burn in hell along with your prophets. I won’t break Erienne’s heart like that. She’s the child’s mother.”

“Bertrand…”

“Perhaps I can help.” Both men whirled around to see Iliard standing at the top of the stairs.

Bertrand frowned, “What are you doing here? How did you know…?”

A tentative smile touched Iliard’s lips before he answered, “It seems we are not the only ones privy to the Prophecy of Jeragoth. I have been sent here to help.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, brother,” Bertrand said bitterly, “I wouldn’t want you to soil your hands with my bastard child.”

Iliard sighed softly and steeled himself for battle. He cleared his throat and said, “Neridius, would you mind giving us a few moments alone?”

“Of course Master Iliard,” he said, and then hurried down the stairs. He had barely gotten to the bottom of the stairs when he heard in his mind, “Neridius, I must speak to you. Come outside.”

“At once, Master.” Neridius replied as he quickly headed out the front door. He stepped outside and heard a voice call softly from the shadows, “Neridius, come away from the house.” Neridius moved toward the trees where he could see the silhouette of his Master framed by the light of two of the moons of Gorthus. “What news?” his Master asked.

“She has been named…” Neridius paused as strong emotion threatened to overwhelm him “…Alana, Master Mallorick. Her mother named her Alana,” he repeated, almost in wonder.

Mallorick sat down on a white marble bench situated in the shadows. “And so it begins,” he said softly.

“Master, do you still intend to go through with your plan?” Neridius asked almost plaintively.

“It is the only way to keep her safe,” he replied firmly

“I do not understand, how can that keep her safe? Would it not be better if…?”

“Neridius,” Mallorick interrupted, “If I were to remain as I am, they would find me and through me they would find her. I cannot allow that to happen. This is the best way.” He stared off into the distance as he pondered all that must now be done.

“But Master Mallorick, how then can she be kept safe? Bertrand does not want to bring her to Castle Candril. Here she is too vulnerable, but I cannot make him listen to reason. If you are to go through with your plan, she will have no guardian to watch over her.”

“Ah, but I think she will,” Mallorick replied, turning his head to look again at his apprentice. “Did I not see young Master Iliard enter the house a short time ago?”

“Yes, Master Mallorick. But he and Bertrand had a falling out. I do not think Bertrand will allow his brother to have anything to do with his child.”

“I would not be so sure, my friend. Forgiveness comes easily when love runs deeply. The Novadi High Council sent Master Iliard to watch over the child. I am certain he will do everything in his power to reconcile with his brother so he can accomplish this task.” Neridius made a sound of protest and Mallorick said sternly, “I set great store in Master Iliard’s abilities, young Searcher and so should you. He is well equipped for the task and I am confident that, between the two of you, you can come up with a plan that is acceptable to all concerned.”

Neridius bowed his head in acquiescence, “I will do as you wish, Master Mallorick.”

“Thank you, Neridius. I have great faith in you.”

“Master,” Neridius said thoughtfully, “if they can find the babe through you, will they not also be able to find her through me?”

“A very good question,” Mallorick replied approvingly. “I would have said yes under normal circumstances, but in this case, I think not. You are not her Searcher and Bertrand and his son have already been deemed a non-threat by them. Therefore, they will not trouble with either of you as long as Bertrand lives and as long as no other Searcher comes to Castle Candril. I have been studying them for two and a half thousand years. I know their habits well. Their great arrogance and single minded pursuit are their greatest weaknesses.”

Neridius nodded, “Now I see more clearly, Master. I will do everything in my power to keep the child safe.”

“I know you will, my friend. Now go speak with Master Iliard.”

“Yes. Goodnight, Master Mallorick.”

“Until we meet again, Neridius.” At that, Mallorick, Chief Mederian Searcher and Head of the Searcher order, disappeared. Neridius prepared himself for the hard fight that was surely going on back upstairs, breathed deeply and went back into the house.

#

Bertrand waited until Neridius had gone all the way down the stairs before he spoke. Then he turned to Iliard and said, “What are you really doing here? Did you come to shame me some more?”

“No, Bert,” Iliard answered with an emphatic shake of his head. “I was sent here by my Master to watch over your daughter. She is very important—according to the prophecies.”

“Damn the prophecies,” Bertrand growled, “Besides, why would I want to have a brother who despises me watch over my daughter?”

Iliard flinched at his brother’s harsh words. “I do not despise you, Bert.”

“That’s funny,” Bertrand retorted, “I seem to recall the word ‘despicable’ coming from your mouth. I also seem to remember you saying that you were ashamed to be my brother.”

Iliard could see the pain in his brother’s eyes and his face flushed with shame. “Bert,” he said softly, “I’m sorry for what I said. I was wrong and I should have never said it. I let my self-righteousness get the best of me.”

Bertrand grunted and turned his head.

Iliard moved closer to him. “Look Bert I’m sorry. Really. I can see now how much she means to you.”

Bertrand shifted uncomfortably and murmured, “What are you talking about?”

Iliard proceeded cautiously. “I’m saying that I didn’t know how much you cared for Erienne.”

Bertrand shrugged as if in indifference and said, “She’s the mother of my child.”

Iliard let out a short bark of laughter, “Come on Bert. If you had been carrying a sword, Neridius would be minus a head—or at least a limb or two.” He saw the hint of a smile touch Bertrand’s lips and pressed his advantage. “Do you remember that time in Tanar when you fought an entire bar full of men for that woman who turned out to be married to the local constable?”

Now Bertrand chuckled, “As I recall, we had to leave town in a hurry to avoid getting arrested.” He shook his head ruefully, “I always was stupid about women.”

Iliard grinned crookedly and answered, “Yes, you are.”

Bertrand shot him a sideways glare, “You know, you didn’t have to agree so quickly.”

“Oh,” said Iliard, his eyes twinkling merrily, “Sorry.”

Bertrand tried to glare at him some more. He wanted to be angry with Iliard, but he found that he couldn’t hold onto his anger when they were face to face. Other than Neridius, Iliard was the only person in the world that Bertrand felt that he could completely trust. He had really missed him this past year. Finally, he burst out laughing, unable to hold onto his anger and hurt. He pulled Iliard into a rough embrace and murmured, “I don’t know what I’d do without you, little brother.”

Iliard returned his embrace and said, “Get in trouble—as always.”

With a chuckle Bertrand stepped away and said, “So it would seem.” He looked towards the closed bedroom door, “Although, this bit of ‘trouble’ is not so bad.” His eyes brightened, “You should see her Iliard. Her name is Alana. She’s so beautiful.”

“Well,” Iliard replied with mock impatience, “Why don’t you open the door so I can see her?”

“Before I do that,” Bertrand began, “What’s all this about? How does your master know anything about this?”

Iliard cleared his throat slightly. “It seems that Mother went to the Novadi High Council some time ago. I don’t know why, Terin Novar Arianna didn’t tell me.”

“Terin Novar Arianna? I thought your Master’s name was Grandmaster Philip.”

“It is. Terin Novar Arianna is his Master and the Master of all Novadi on Gorthus.”

“Blessed Asaeria,” Bertrand exclaimed in frustration, “Does all of Ranwar know of this? My enemies will have a grand time trying to find different ways to use this against me.”

Iliard gave him a puzzled look. “What are you talking about? Every one of them has at least one illegitimate child. How are they going to use this against you?”

“Oh, they’ll find a way,” Bertrand said gloomily, “Mark my words.”

Iliard shook his head, “You’re being paranoid, big brother. Relax. You haven’t done anything that they themselves haven’t done as well. And you at least are providing for the child and her mother. That is more than most of them do.”

“I suppose so,” he answered, unconvinced. He glanced at his brother’s near waist-length ponytail and added, “Are you ever going to cut that? You look like a damn pirate.”

Iliard ran his thumb and forefinger over his small beard and grinned wickedly. “The ladies seem to like it.”

Bertrand rolled his eyes. “Well, come on. Let me introduce you to your niece.”

Bertrand was about to open the door to Erienne’s room when Neridius hurried up the stairs. “My Lord, Master Iliard,” he said breathlessly, “A moment of your time please.”

Bertrand frowned. “Neridius, I’ve already made up my mind. Alana stays here with Erienne. That’s my final word on the matter.”

“Yes, I know, but please, listen to me.” He waited while Bertrand stepped away from Erienne’s door. “I agree that the child needs to be with her mother. But, she must be protected. I propose that, since you do not want to bring her to Castle Candril, you instead allow Master Iliard to live here so that he can protect both the child and her mother.”

Iliard’s eyebrows shot up. He wondered if Neridius had spoken to Terin Novar Arianna. He cleared his throat slightly. “Well Bert, that is what my master charged me to do. She feels it is the best way to protect the child.”

An angry scowl furrowed Bertrand’s brow. He looked from Neridius to Iliard and said gruffly, “Did you two plan this?”

“Don’t be an ass,” Iliard said irritably. “When has Neridius been anywhere without you?”

“You can mindspeak,” Bertrand accused.

“Will you stop that?” Iliard growled. “Neridius and I are not conspiring against you. We haven’t spoken to each other before tonight. Do you doubt my word as a Novadi warrior?”

Bertrand held Iliard’s gaze for a long while, then finally said, “No, of course not, brother. I suppose it’s the best way,” Bertrand said gruffly.

Neridius let out a sigh of relief, “Then it is settled. Master Iliard will live here and protect the child and her mother.”

Iliard made a sound of impatience and said, “Neridius, they have names. The child is Alana and the mother is Erienne. Don’t ever forget that, first and foremost, they are human beings.”

Neridius looked embarrassed. “Of course, Master Iliard. You are right.”

“All right,” said Bertrand with a smile, amused at Neridius’ discomfiture, “It’s time my brother met his charges.”

Bertrand opened the door and walked in with Iliard and Neridius behind him. Erienne sat on the bed clutching Alana to her, while tears streamed down her face. When she saw Bertrand and an armed man enter the room she exclaimed, “Bertrand, please don’t take my baby away!”

“What?” Bertrand hurried to her side. He sat on the bed and said, “It’s all right Erienne. No one is going to take her away from you.” He saw her glance warily over at Iliard. “That’s my brother, Iliard,” he explained. “He came to see his new niece.”

“Then why is he dressed like that?” she asked tearfully. Bertrand could see her looking at Iliard’s two long swords, one slung over his back and one at his hip.

Iliard looked at Erienne’s terrified eyes. “Bert, I believe the truth would be the best course of action here.”

Bertrand shot him a look of surprise and then said reluctantly, “I suppose you’re right.” He turned back to Erienne and cleared his throat, “You see, there’s this prophecy…” he paused, then went on, “In my family, someone is born every generation who…” he stopped again and made a sound of exasperation.

Iliard took pity on him and said, “Would you like me to explain it?”

Bertrand looked relieved. “Please.”

Iliard unfastened his shoulder scabbard and placed it against the dresser. Erienne looked wide eyed at it. The sword was the full height of the dresser and almost as tall as she was. He pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down, smiling at Erienne in an attempt to put her at ease. She just stared at him with her large green eyes, waiting for him to explain why he had come into her bedroom armed for battle. He took a deep breath. “The prophecy Bertrand mentioned has been in our family for a long time, probably thousands of years. In every generation someone in our family bears the mark that you have probably seen on both Bert and Alana. The prophecy foretells that there will come a third Great Forest war. The one that bears that mark will fight a great battle against a terrible enemy. The prophecy implies that whoever that person is will defeat this enemy and restore peace to Ranwar.”

“And you think Alana is the person in the prophecy,” Erienne said.

“Nothing is absolutely certain when it comes to prophecies,” Iliard replied, “But all the signs right now point to that probability. The problem is,” he went on, “we’re not the only ones who know about this prophecy. There are those who want this enemy to succeed. These people are evil and no deed is too terrible for them. So…” he hesitated. Erienne’s eyes had gotten wider and he could feel her fear growing.

However, in spite of her fear, Erienne finished Iliard’s thought. “So they might try to kill my baby.”

“Yes,” Iliard said with a nod. Bertrand winced at the bluntness of his brother’s response. “But that’s where I come in,” Iliard continued, with a slight comforting gesture to him. “My master has sent me here to watch over you and Alana. Toward that end, we decided that I should live here in this house with you—at least for the time being.”

She looked at Bertrand in surprise. “Live here?”

“It’s really the best way, Erienne.” Bertrand responded. “Don’t worry,” he added with a meaningful look at his brother, “Iliard is a perfect gentleman.”

Iliard smiled crookedly and retorted, “Well, I’ll certainly agree with the ‘perfect’ part, but no one has ever called me a gentleman.”

Erienne’s eyes widened and she started to giggle. Bertrand chuckled and even Neridius cracked a smile. Iliard smiled broadly and said, “That’s a bit better. You shouldn’t be so gloomy around and newborn baby anyway. Now,” he went on, “am I going to get to see my niece?” Bertrand stood up and offered his place next to Erienne. Iliard sat down on the edge of the bed. Erienne gently handed the sleeping infant over to her uncle. Her tiny, sweet face was peaceful, her dark lashes brushed her fair skin and a little shock of dark brown hair touched her forehead. Iliard looked at the child in his arms and once again pain pierced his soul. She knew nothing of prophecies, or of the evil people who might try to harm her. Now he understood Bertrand’s desire to keep the prophecy out of his daughter’s life. Why should she be troubled by dark portents of distant events? She should be allowed to grow up as carefree as possible under the circumstances. Iliard vowed that he would do everything in his power to help Alana have a carefree life. The events in the prophecy would happen in their own time. Until then, this child would live free from fear.

#

“The child is in Candril City,” the Seer intoned. “But be wary, a Novadi warrior of great power guards the babe.”

“Where in Candril City?” the Mage asked impatiently. “There are tens of thousands of people in Candril City.”

“There is no more,” the Seer replied.

The Mage ground his teeth in frustration. He turned to the High Priestess and said, “How do we find the child without more information?”

“Patience,” she replied, “You have gotten more information than most. The blood of the half-breed is very potent.”

“I hope you didn’t kill him,” the Mage said, “He is still useful to me.”

The Priestess made a sound of contempt. “The half-breed lives only because he is useful to you Terin Calderan,”

The Mage felt a thrill of exhilaration at the sound of the title the Tagoni had given him. “How will you find the child?” he asked again.

“A Novadi warrior playing guardian to an infant is no easy thing to hide,” she replied. She turned to one of her handmaidens and said, “Send for my Assassin.”