Victor

  As we continued to follow the river my vision became ever more dominated by the outer walls of Andalon City - a large curtain wall of sun-baked stone easily forty feet high with round machicolated towers at regular intervals. The river beside us had cut a gorge into the land and given way to some glorious-looking rapids. The road led to the main gate house and gave way to golden-gray cobblestone streets. After gawking at my sick ride for a moment, the guards were nice enough to recommend an Inn with the all important carriage house feature. Because we had business at the citadel we decided to take care of that first before dropping the car off.

  With our windows down we cruised at a leisurely, carriage-like pace through the streets. It was fairly obvious by the overall design that this was a sort of gate-market district as evidenced by all of the inns, taverns and cute little shops aligning the broad street. I could hear the indistinct hum of city-folk bustling, the distant chirps of seagulls, and even the occasional music of a street performer. There was a salty scent in the air, yes, the distinctive aroma of the sea was being carried over the city by a gentle breeze, and I caught the occasional whiff of something being cooked. I could see red terracotta rooftops, and walls that were largely whitewashed brick or even adobe if I wasn't mistaken, but with some scattered ochre and neutrals throughout. I did some hand surfing out of the car window - the air between my fingers felt crisp and cool but not as cold as it had been up in the mountainous parts of Andalon.

  Illiana was silent for a while, staring out of the window thoughtfully, but then she said, "Did I ever tell you, that I was originally supposed to come to Andalon after reporting on my progress with Hylaria and Cara?"

  "Nah, I don't think that came up before. Did you wanna get that business done while we're in town?"

  She shook her head, "Nay. Recall that the king of Andalon visited Tor Anaura for the festival. His minister of trade was also there. During his visit a new trade agreement was drafted, and the king signed it in addition to the White Accord."

  Far from being an automobile from the Land of the Rising Sun, The White Accord had been the name of the new treaty where each signatory pledged to root out the Black Order and to send reinforcements should they ever act with open hostility. Signatories included Cara, Andalon, Anaura, Verdan, Hylaria, Daz Grund, and the three principalities. There are other nearby kingdoms and such south of that northern mountain range, but they were too far away to send delegates - I reckoned my future father-in-law would reach out to them eventually. Maybe he’d even send me up there and honestly I wouldn’t mind obliging him. But that wasn’t what I chose to focus on in the moment:

  "Is it safe to assume you had something to do with securin' that deal?"

  She winked, "Guilty as charged!"

  I knew it - Illiana was an unstoppable force at market, and was a fearsome negotiator when it came to trade. Don't get me started on our dealings with the Adventurer's Guild - if there was some way to squeeze out additional pay, you can bet she'd find and exploit it.

  Yeah, I love that about her, heck, reckon I love everything about her. I didn't have to say "I love you" in that exact moment, but I did so anyway, then she went for the neck nibble and started feeling me up - gah - I'm driving, dear, save it for when we've parked somewhere romantic! Sigh, I kinda missed drive-in theaters - maybe I could rig up something with a magic tool.

  By and by, as the Finn would say, we made our way to the citadel. The further south we went the fancier and larger the buildings got. The city was divided into wards by a series of walls with staggered gates, so it wasn't like we could just make a beeline - we had to zig-zag quite a bit before we could even see the castle walls.

  Since we'd been making a lot of turns we kept crossing the river again, and again, over some beautiful stone bridges until we came to the front gate of the castle and I noticed that the river adjoined the eastern wall of the citadel before passing through an elaborate stone gate with a deep blue beyond - since I had heard that the citadel was built at the very edge of the cliffs overlooking the Narrow Sea, I reckoned that's exactly what I was looking at.

  That's right, I saw the Narrow Sea for the first time that day after hearing about it for many months. Illiana had been to Port d’Azune so she’d seen it before, by the way.

  Before doing any sightseeing or sea sighting, we needed to deliver the letter we had from Gandore's Gorge. It was actually rather easy to hand the letter over - the guards summoned the majordomo, who took the letter from us and bade us wait a while.

  Unexpectedly, we were invited in to speak to the king himself - ya know, if I wasn't engaged to an actual princess I reckon I'd be thrown by the fact that I'd met so many damn monarchs.

  I won't speak too much on the castle's design except to say that I reckoned it was pretty defensible with three staggered gate houses that forced potential invaders to walk through a killzone. But Illiana and I were led straight up to the rampart so that we could meet the king on, get this, a picnic lounge on top of a bastion tower overlooking the sea - the view was just as incredible as you would imagine; a seemingly endless expanse of blue. I even spotted some ships in the water, probably merchant vessels if I had to venture a guess, but damn, if this wasn't the second nicest thing a king had ever done for me.

  Oh incidentally, I noticed that all of the guards at the citadel wore red armor which I came to find out later were made from genuine red dragon scales. King Harold I had magical suits of armor crafted out of his enemy’s hide and gave them to his elite guard, and there were lesser sets that were gifted to worthy heroes too.

  The tower we'd climbed up was covered by a round wooden hoarding, which allowed persons seated upon it to dine in the shade. We were not alone up here, there were a number of people enjoying the sea breeze. The first was a man sitting on an armchair - black of hair, with a narrow beard and a downward-pointing V-shaped mustache; ah, actually, I recognized his face as he'd been present for the banquet in Tor Anaura. The second one was reclining on a chaise lounger holding a bouncing baby boy; she also looked vaguely familiar, yeah, like a young Audrey Hepburn - where had I seen someone who looked like that again?

  "Be at ease," said the man, a hand raised, as we were about to kneel. "Welcome. Though this isn't the first time I've seen your faces, I believe we've never been introduced. I am Harold IV, King of Andalon. This is my wife, Queen Fernanda. The baby she holds is our seventh child: the fourth prince."

  "Ah, well, thanks your majesty," I said, stumbling, "Victor Alexander Kirkland, adventurer."

  Illiana curtsied and said, "Princess Illiana Verissa tael Anaura, also an adventurer - though, I'll soon be taking on the Kirkland name."

  The king nodded, "I imagine you would, yes, that engagement announcement was unexpected but heartwarming none the less, especially after hearing such grave news; I can't help but wonder-" he stopped himself, sighing. "But anyroad - the reason why I called you here is that my wife reminded me that you had helped us recently."

  Huh? Did I announce our names whenever I handed over the letter? "Forgive me, but, how did you know it was us?"

  The king said, laughing, "You may not know this, but your party has gained something of a reputation for coming in fast and hot at alarming speeds. When I read the date on the letterhead, a mere two days ago, and saw that it had come all the way from Gandore's Gorge, well, it wasn't a difficult guess to make."

  I scratched my head sheepishly and said, "Ah, well, that makes sense - and um, what did we do for you exactly?"

  The lady passed the baby to her husband, stood up, and bowed low.

  "Red Lightning. I wanted to thank you personally for saving my mother's life."

  Illiana and I both let out an abrupt "ah!" as I reckon we both realized the same thing: the woman before us looked just like Queen Arabelle only younger, just not as young as Princess Felicia. That's right! Back at the ball, the princes of Cara spoke of their sister having been pregnant at the time and unable to travel - and they also mentioned that she'd been married to the king of Andalon. Of course, how could I have forgotten that? Well okay, a lot of stuff happened so I guess I could be cut some slack. You try remembering details you learned at a party after fighting for your life multiple times!

  I grinned and stuck a thumb up, "I was just doin' my good turn for the day, your majesty."

  The queen smiled, scooped up the child again, and brought him closer to us. Daww what a little angel; already has the darlingest widdle cheekbones. Illiana seemed to agree, visibly and audibly holding back a "squee".

  At length the queen said "We were going to call him Albert after my grandfather, but, given what happened - we settled on Victor Illiano del Andalon."

  Illiana let out a long "awww" and started blushing profusely - I’m sure I was turning red, too. Well don't that just beat all, damn, we had a prince named after us. Such a cute baby at that! Gosh, I didn't know what to say - how do you even react to something like that. All I could do was bow and say "you honor me more than I deserve." To make a long story short, the meeting was concluded and the king thanked us for indulging him; oh not just with words, though! We departed the castle with a pair of round wooden tokens bearing the royal seal and marked with a date and seat numbers - that's right, we'd scored front-row tickets to the Brawnball championship game between the Drakes and the Griffins two days hence; gah, now they got me doing it.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  You see, second prince Cyrill happened to be the star player of the Drakes so the king always had some extra seats to give to dignitaries and the like. Once that errand was done we made our way to the adventurer's guild. We handed over the package the Baron of Gandore's Gorge gave us and that was the end of it - all of the required paperwork was done, and we were free to resume our leisurely road trip! Incidentally, we also drove by the stadium where the game was to be held - from the outside it resembled an old Roman ludus with a domed roof. A domed roof of that size…I wondered how they pulled it off. Selafyn mentioned the place when he told us about various landmarks he recommended visiting.

  “Dragonheart Arena,” he had said, “So-called because..well, why spoil the surprise?”

  I’d turned to Illiana and she agreed with him. Cheeky, the both of ‘em - yep they’re related all right. Oh well. The next thing we did was park the Cadillac at the inn we were planning to stay at - Shacker’s Retreat. It was one of those inns that catered to travellers; you know, tavern and kitchen downstairs and rooms upstairs. The price was neither too cheap nor too steep for a couple of competent adventurers like us, and the beds were nice and sturdy as we discovered almost immediately after dropping off our luggage. Hungry as we were, we decided to take a leisurely stroll down to the docks where we were assured fresh fish could be had - I hadn't eaten fish since whenever we went to Calvernport and of course I wanted to see what Andalonian seafood was like.

  Following the convenient wooden street signs we made our way east and were eventually treated to a glorious view of the bay hundreds of feet below and the lands beyond - I wasn't sure if the cliffs in the distance were still a part of Andalon, or if that was Cara, but it was quite a sight. Through personal exploration and asking a lot of questions I learned about the layout of the city's east side. There were eight terraces carved into the rock face connected by a long switchback system. Starting from the upper one would begin to descend to the first terrace by a slightly inclined ramp at one end of the city, then make a turn the opposite direction from a landing; each of these landings had a place to sit down to rest, a railing overlooking the next terrace, and an inn.

  The first terrace largely consisted of guild halls and infrastructure buildings - the stoneworker's hall being the largest and most important, for they were in charge of maintaining the sea walls and other crucial structures in the city; the guild employed quite a few dwarves actually, brought here by one of the first king's companions to aid in the city's construction. In fact the entire east side reminded me of Daz Grund and its network of ramp tunnels. The districts we walked through on our way down were a mixture of residential and commercial with various sorts of artisan and craftsman shops. Finally we reached the bottom - a stone jetty carved directly into the cliff face itself, and a wooden dock attached - ahh, yes, it was everything I was hoping it would be. No upscale restaurants, buildings and piers made out of old wood, random fishermen dragging their catch around, seafaring men just going about their business; my kind of docks. I could already smell the sea a few terraces ago, and now that was mixing with the distinct aroma of fresh fish.

  The Saucy Mermaid looked promising, so that’s where we went. Nothing especially interesting happened while we ate, and our conversation mostly consisted of commentary about the flavors so I’ll spare you the back and forth. We started out with what they called a “dockside trencher” - basically, a thick seafood soup served in a bread trough; I’d be hard pressed to call it a “bowl” because it was somewhat rectangular in nature. Then they brought out thick slabs of sea bass drizzled with more of that pepper sauce I’d tried in Herosford plus some other herbs. They served a sweet fortified wine there, made locally, yeah too sweet for my taste but Illiana loved it - noted.

  After dinner we sat on the pier together and gazed across the sea. Evening was wearing on and the Narrow Sea was bathed in an orange glow; ahh, the rumble of the waves, the seabirds singing, that cool sea breeze, really put me in a thoughtful mood. Illiana, too, seemed lost in her own mind. It had been a very long day full of travel, exploration, and some really fine local cuisine; yeah, time to call it a night.

  Illiana

  12th month, 21st day, 967

  I had something on my mind, something important. Two days after we arrived in Andalon City, Sir Victor and I went to a Brawnball game. I’d never been to one before and was somewhat curious especially since Sir Victor compared it to a sport from his old world. More than that I wanted to see the inside of the arena for myself. Anyroad, it was mid-day when we arrived at Dragonheart Arena; there was a huge crowd of people surrounding it. Once we showed off the tokens given to us by King Harold, we were allowed inside and given directions to our designated seating area.

  Bless my soul, I lost all of my breath when we entered the arena - Sir Victor, too. Oh, I knew what was coming but to actually see the sight with my own two eyes rendered me speechless and caused my lower half to nearly seize. It wasn’t obvious from the outside because of all the construction, but the arena’s dome was supported by ring of massive ribs - not ribs of wood as on a galleon, but ribs of a great creature long dead. They were some two-hundred feet long, fifteen feet thick at their bases. Not just any ribs either; I knew where they came from.

  “These are the ribs of Krinjhordr,” I said, “The selfsame dragon skewered by the twin pillars hundreds of years ago.”

  “I - I think I get it,” said Sir Victor, who’d just managed to take a breath. “If those are actual dragon ribs, then the arena below is the heart...”

  That expression of dumbfounded awe that I sometimes saw him wear - ahh, he was so cute when he looked that way! But still, I was also awed by the sight of the great dome; there’s hearing stories, reading about legends, and then there’s seeing it for oneself. This dome was the legacy of the heroes who rid the world of a great evil and the ingenious craftsmen who decided to turn the body parts of an engine of despair into a place of mirth. I keep thinking about legacy, especially of late - I had something important I needed to ask Sir Victor. Finding the right words was eating at my insides. But for the moment I just wanted to enjoy our day; oh divines above please let there be no such thing as monsters being summoned into the stands, let this be an ordinary trip to “the ballgame” as Sir Victor would put it.

  “So like,” he said after we’d sat down, “What did they do with the skull, make a rumpus room?”

  Oh! I knew that too! “Twas used as the foundation for a temple to the Divine Dragon.”

  “Huh? Didn’t the dragons, or the priests of this divine dragon dude object?”

  I shook my head. “The Divine Dragon is full of sorrow when his children turn evil. The temple served as a reminder that even higher dragons aren’t above being corrupted by sin, that even the most powerful of evil can be conquered by good, and there’s something about redemption too. In death Krinjhorder’s body has been put to the benefit of mortalkind for now his skull lies upon hallowed ground serving as a place of healing and meditation. That’s their logic, at any rate.”

  I nodded, “Sort of like how even an instrument of death can become a symbol of faith, as what happened with the cross.”

  Oh, I needed to ask him about his religion some time. After all, if we were to be married shouldn’t we take his own faith into consideration? But just as I was about to inquire further there arose a great clamor. A herald came to announce the start of the championship game - oh, both teams lined up and the anthem of Andalon was sung. It was a rather brutal sport, but nobody seemed to be getting terribly injured - boys sure loved to roughhouse.

  Sir Victor, between raucous cheers, bites of food, and swigs of beer, explained the similarities and differences he’d noticed between Brawnball and Rugby. For one thing, Brawnball had a rule which allowed any referee call to be subjected to a “physical challenge” - where the team captains would engage in a wrestling match and the winner received a more favorable outcome. If the challenger lost, the penalty was doubled. If the challenger won, the call was reversed.

  I saw Prince Cyrill for the first time that day, as he stood with his team. He was a handsome man with wavy black hair and a little mustache - it wasn’t the last time Sir Victor or I would see him, either.

  Well I shall not pretend to understand the rules or the appeal of Brawnball but I had a lot of fun being there with Sir Victor. In the end the Drakes had won the game and the crowd on our side was cheering so loudly that I wished I had Sir Victor’s gun-ears on me. Still the question I wished to ask him was nagging at my mind.

  Once all was done I indicated that I should like to walk somewhere quiet, so we found a nearby park to walk through. We sat silently together for what seemed like an eternity, just holding hands for the most part - ahh this was nice.

  But this important question weighed heavily upon me, and I was lost in thought. I had been thinking a great deal about the legacies that humans leave behind when their short lives come to an end. I remembered Sylfie’s sorrow - a legacy denied, she called it - and her happiness at knowing that Merlinda had a living grandson. O Sir Victor, I wish only to know - then all of a sudden:

  “Hey,” said Sir Victor, “How many kids do you wanna have?”

  I squeaked. Gah! That was my question! The selfsame inquiry I’d agonized over for days!

  “I - er, um…” I caught my breath, sighed, and smiled. Of course he would just casually blurt it out like that. I focused and put on airs. “As many as I am capable of bearing thee. You should know that…” I cast my eyes down, “As virile as thou’rt, the chance of thine seed sprouting within me isn’t as high as t’would be with a human woman.”

  He nodded, “I reckoned that’d be the case. You’d get overpopulated real fast otherwise since y’all live so long.” He rubbed my shoulder and caressed my cheek ~ah~ he is so good with his hands in more ways than I’m comfortable divulging.

  “Well, um,” I said, “If I train my life magic I myself can become more fertile than the average elf, just like my mother, however…I hate to think thusly, but, given the threat of the Black Order I fear that I’m in no hurry to become pregnant at this time.”

  “If you’re really worried, we can always abstain from sex for a-”

  “No!” I cried, leaping to my feet, then took a deep breath. I had been thinking about it, fearfully, but hearing him say it…the idea was abhorrent. It took me but a fleeting moment to dispel the idea from my heart that perhaps I would merely miss the exquisite pleasure and happiness I felt when making love with him; I knew that he had other means of satisfying me physically. No, I knew why...

  I exhaled and said, calmly as I could, “Heavens no, Sir Victor. Pray, keep attending me the way you always have. I know not when the next window will be, nor the one after. I refuse to risk missing the opportunity to start a family with you out of fear: for that is surely the sort of thing our enemy would desire of us. If I do fall with child while the Black Order yet lurks in the shadows, then so be it! I can not let them win!”

  Sir Victor nodded, “If that does happen I’ll protect you both from those damn terrorists and whatever else comes our way/” He smiled widely, “And hey, you’ve an extended family - so we won’t exactly lack for babysitter options either. Guess we’ll risk it for the biscuit, won’t we.”

  I laughed, “Idioms, Sir Victor.”

  He laughed, “More of a silly rhyme but-”

  We shared a passionate kiss and engaged in a long standing hug, until Sir Victor abruptly lifted his head up and said, “Wait. Speakin’ of family plannin’, isn’t your friend’s due date like-”

  We looked at each other and yelped. Juliette was supposed to give birth this week!

  “I’ll settle our inn bill!”

  “I’ll load the car!”