The beggar prince, p.13
The Beggar Prince, page 13
part #1 of Unbroken Bond Series
“Oh…”
“But that's just silly though!” Tip exclaimed. “Why pretend you don't care?”
Davian grinned. “Some people are silly like that.”
“Well, Mardaley wasn't pretending,” Marshalla noted stubbornly. “Not the type,”
“You didn't see how he was after you left yesterday,” Maline said.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, went all broody and silent, couldn't rid of me fast enough. That man's in pain, Marsha. It's as if he saw you two as his.”
“I'm not surprised,” Davian added.
“What you mean?” Tip asked.
“Well, did you not see how he was staring at Father that first time we met, after Father insinuated you weren't worth me being around. Thought he was going to strike Father down.”
Marshalla and Tip exchanged glances, but their moods had decidedly improved.
“What's insinuated?” Tip asked after a brief spell.
“Suggest,” Marshalla replied.
“Don't know what to suggest, don't know what it means.”
“No, Tip, it means suggest.”
“Ah.”
“So, anyway,” Maline said, “what's it like living with Davian?”
“It's horrible!” Tip exclaimed.
“Hey!” Davian cried in response.
“Ha, tricked you!”
The others giggled as Davian glowered at Tip.
“It's nice,” Tip conceded soon after. “His father likes us now. He used to call us gutter rats and everything, but this morning he almost sent his head houseperson away because she called Marsha a street whore.”
“She what?” Maline frowned at the little elf.
“It was spoken in the heat of the moment,” Davian added hurriedly.
“Yeah, she was really angry.”
“Angry about what?”
Tip paused as he stared frowning at Davian for a spell.
“Don't know. She's always angry when she sees Marsha and me.”
“But everyone else likes you, right?”
Tip grinned at Maline. “Most of them, yeah. Marsha and me are going with Davian to the Tower at the end of the week too!”
Frowning, Maline looked at Davian.
“The Tower has been running an open-door event of late. On the last day of the week, every week, they throw their doors open for the whole day to any who would like to see what it would be like to be a mage of the Tower.”
“Oh! Anyone?”
Davian nodded. “Well, elves only of course.”
Maline looked at Marshalla. “But you hate magic.”
Marshalla shrugged. “Only going to keep an eye on those two, make sure they don't break nothing.”
“We won't!” both boyes echoed in unison.
“Yeah, going be there to make sure.”
“Going to be a mage though,” Tip said grinning. “That why he taking me.”
“He wants you to join the Tower?”
“No!” he exclaimed, giggling. “Davian's joining. But Davian needs someone to practice with to be good, so he's going to teach me so Davian can practice with me.”
“Teach you himself?”
“Oh, yes!”
Maline looked at Davian, who was smiling proudly at her.
“I told Father about Tip's desire to be a powerful mage. Father can be quite generous, you know.”
Maline couldn't help but smile as she shook her head at Tip. “Well, so long as you both happy, that's all that matters.”
“Oh, we are!”
Just then, they reached the first delivery stop. The others waited patiently as Maline completed the delivery. As the patron's door closed though, Maline turned and stared at Marshalla and Tip both, her right palm open for all to see.
“You never told me about this!”
Grinning, both Marshalla and Tip stared at the coins in her hand.
“About what?” Davian asked.
“The coin,” Marshalla replied as Maline showed them to him.
“That the best bit!” Tip added. “What Marsha and me did was we go to the ones that give us the most first! They started giving us even more when we did that! Don't tell Mardaley though.”
Maline laughed. “So, which are those, then?”
“Thought you'd never ask!” Marshalla exclaimed. And as they walked, Marshalla proceeded to give Maline the tutoring that truly mattered, which deliveries would gain her the most coin, and which customers responded best to flattery. As they walked, though, Marshalla couldn't help but throw the odd glance at Tip, her guilt hidden perfectly behind her warm smile.
*****
Sighing, Thuridan stared down at the mass of activity below him. His lips twisted in a disdainful frown, he stood silent as he watched elves from all walks and stations meandering and mingling below.
“I didn't expect to see you in today, Thuridan,” a voice called out from the doorway behind him. Spinning, Thuridan stared at his new guest.
“Baern,” he said, nodding.
“Does this mean you'll be taking a more prominent role in our open doors event today?”
Thuridan glowered at Baern from where he stood. The archmage simply smiled back.
“That was in jest, Thuridan,” Baern added after a moment's uncomfortable silence.
“Funny.”
“Oh, come now,” Baern replied as he walked into Thuridan's office, “I'd have expected even you to have warmed to the event by now.”
“Why in the world would I have done that?” Thuridan replied testily. “My opinion of this farce hasn't changed. It's only a matter of time before I am proven right.”
Sighing, Baern shook his head as he leant on a nearby chair.
“My dear Thuridan, this event has been running for weeks now, and we have yet to see anyone rampaging through our halls looking to steal our artifacts and our knowledge.”
“And you think because it hasn't happened yet it's not going to happen?”
“Well…yes. If anything, I'd say given the increased interest we've had of those wishing to join us, this event has been a resounding success.”
“Increased numbers of simpletons and imbeciles…yes that does sound like a resounding success.”
“Thuridan…”
“Did you actually come in here to talk about something of note, or is this a social visit?”
“Neither actually, I was walking by and happen to notice your door open.”
“Walking by…? And what, pray tell, would you be doing on this floor on a day like today?”
“Now, that would be telling,” he replied as he sat on the chair nearest him, smiling. Thuridan watched him with cold regard.
“But now that I'm here, you're right, we don't really get to talk much,” Baern added once sat.
“And what would we have to talk about?”
“Thuridan, my old friend, you and I have been at each other's throats since my appointment to the Matriarch's side. Isn't it time we buried this rancour between us? We are both working for the good of the Tower, are we not?”
Thuridan stared at Baern in silence for a spell.
“Forgive me if I find your words a bit…”
“Hollow?”
“Yes.”
Baern smiled. “I don't blame you. But I do mean it, and this open-door event is prime example of our need to join ranks. I must admit, when the Matriarch first voiced it, I agreed with your dissension. The Tower has managed all this millenia by closely guarding our secrets and our ways, so to throw so much caution to the wind would be madness. However, it does seem to be getting some form of result, and gods know our numbers have been dwindling quite noticeably the past few decades.”
At last, Thuridan smiled, but there was no mirth in it.
“I see…” he replied as he too sat. “So, you're here to have a friendly little chat, and also see if you can sway my mind on this insult, is that right?”
“Thuridan…” Baern replied, sighing as he shook his head. “Perhaps we shouldn't talk about Tower politics for now, shall we?”
“If you insist…”
“How's the family?”
“They are well.”
“And Davian? I hear you're preparing him to partake of the Birthing this year.”
“Yes, he'll be old enough.”
“It's amazing how quickly they grow up, isn't it?”
Thuridan sighed as he frowned at Baern. “What are you truly after?”
“Like I said, I merely wish to quell the rancour between us.”
“To what purpose?”
“Must there be a hidden agenda to everything?”
Thuridan kept his peace for a spell as he held the smiling high elf before him in a cold gaze. At last, he rose.
“Davian is fine. His studies are progressing as well as can be expected. Thalas is also fine. Now, is there anything else? I do have a lot to get done today.”
“I hear you have some new additions to the family, is that true?”
Slowly, Thuridan sat back into his chair as he smirked at Baern.
“A young boy I hear,” Baern continued, “about Davian's age, is he? And a girl too, older from what I hear.”
Thuridan shook his head as his smirk grew. “The truth finally comes out. I never thought you would be one to indulge in gossip, but I suppose we all have our vices.”
Baern frowned at Thuridan, his face one of pure innocence. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I've heard the rumours. 'Old Thuridan has gotten soft, allowing his son mix and mingle with the dredges of society.' Well, I will tell you this, my business is my own. What I allow for my family is my choice, mine and no other's.”
“Thuridan,” Baern replied, looking visibly hurt, “you wound me. I did not come here to gossip. If anything, I was looking to commend you on this. Too many of us have turned a blind eye to the sufferings of the less fortunate among us, too many have pretended not to have noticed the daily struggles of the penniless and homeless about us. In truth, it is because of these rumours that I have come here now. You have shown yourself to be far nobler than I ever thought of you. If anything, you've put me and many like me to shame, for while we have spent far too long talking about what could be done to alleviate the suffering of the many, you have actually gone out of your way to make a difference.”
Thuridan stared at Baern with no small measure of suspicion, but it was clear this was an answer he was not expecting.
“In fact,” Baern continued, “I would like nothing more than to meet them, and also urge you to allow them come to the Tower often.”
“Why?”
“Guilt, why else? The more often the others here see them, the more they are reminded that mere words are not enough.”
Thuridan stared in absolute silence at Baern as he pondered the elderly mage's words carefully.
“The younger one, Tip,” he replied at last, “he's shown quite some interest in becoming a mage himself. I daresay he's obsessed with it.”
“Truly?”
Thuridan nodded. “Davian suggested they both take advantage of today's event to see what that life would entail.”
“Ha! Imagine that!”
Thuridan smiled, but this time it was a smile with much more warmth. “Yes, the irony is not lost on me, Baern.”
Baern grinned at him. “So, when would they be arriving? I would very much like to meet this Tip.”
“They should be here shortly. They had some…errands to run at noon-chime, so they'll be coming in with the first of the afternoon visitors. I'll send word and make sure you are at least introduced.”
“That would be wonderful!”
Thuridan nodded politely at Baern in response.
“Well, I'd best get going,” Baern said as he rose. “I shall see you later, then?”
Once again, Thuridan nodded. “Indeed you shall.”
Nodding himself, Baern spun round and left, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips as he walked out.
*****
Tip stood stunned before the entrance of the Shimmering Tower. With his mouth ajar, he stared skyward at the tower itself, the single largest structure in the compound where they now stood. Grinning, Davian looked at his friend.
“Impressed?”
“Hunh?” Tip looked at him. Davian chuckled.
“Believe me, I was every bit as awestruck as you when I first stood this close to it.”
Grinning, Tip looked back at the tower. The first thing about it that stole his breath was the sheer size of it. Craning his neck as far back as he possibly could, he still could not see its zenith. In truth, this should not have surprised him, for the Shimmering Tower was one of only two structures that could be seen from any part of Merethia, so to expect to see its zenith when this close would be an impossibility. And then there was its girth. At its base, the tower itself was a wider than a fair few streets in Merethia, Tip was sure.
“How in the hells did they build something like that?” Marshalla whispered behind them. Chuckling, Davian turned to stare at her.
“You think this is impressive? Wait till the sun comes out from behind those clouds.”
Both looked at Davian.
“What happens then?” Marshalla asked. Davian grinned.
“You will get to see why it's called the Shimmering Tower.”
Tip and Marshalla looked at each other before looking at the tower once again just as the sun shone upon it. Both gasped at what they saw.
“How do they make it do that?” Marshalla asked.
“They won't tell me. I asked the first time I came, but Father said to stop asking, that when I join the Tower, such secrets would be revealed to me.”
“Tell me when they tell you, please,” Tip pleaded, his eyes still on the Tower.
“Of course.”
Tip looked over at Davian, grinning. “Thank you.”
“Best get moving,” Marshalla said, “someone's at the door.”
Nodding, the boys began walking toward the entrance, but even as he walked, Tip couldn't take his eyes off the Tower's walls, for the little light that touched those pure white walls left them mesmerising to behold.
“Ah, young master Davian, you're early.”
Stood by the entrance was a kindly-looking elf, a warm smile upon his lips as he beheld the three of them.
“My apologies, my friends were eager to see the Tower.” Turning, Davian stared at Tip and Marshalla both.
“This is Archmage Tarman Rocksplitter, the head attendant here.”
Smiling, both Marshalla and Tip bowed graciously at him, even though neither knew what a head attendant was.
“Welcome to the Shimmering Tower, my young friends,” the archmage said. “We've heard tales of Davian's new friends, and I'm glad to have finally made your acquaintance.”
“What stories?” Tip asked.
Smiling, the archmage looked at Tip. “Nothing untoward, I assure you. Please, come in.” Turning, he headed in. The others fell in behind him.
“I'm afraid there's still a fair amount of preparations left to do before the afternoon's open door,” he said as they walked. “so I must leave you both in Davian's capable hands.”
“Don't worry, Master Rocksplitter, I'll take good care of them,” Davian replied.
“Oh, I know you will,” the elderly elf replied, smiling. “Your father wants to see you before the event starts though,. Why not go see him first before showing your friends around?”
Davian nodded. “I'll do that.”
“Splendid!” Stopping, the elderly elf turned and bowed regally at both Tip and Marshalla before hurrying off down the grand corridor they stood within. Smiling, Davian turned to his friends, but once his gaze fell upon Tip, his smile faded.
“Tip.”
“Hrm?”
“Pockets.”
“What?” Marshalla stared at Tip, then Davian, before casting a furtive glance about them.
“It's ok, Marsha,” Tip replied, “told him yesterday.”
“You not supposed to tell anyone!” Marshalla hissed, throwing a guilty glance at Davian as she spoke.
“He had no choice, Marsha,” Davian replied. “Thalas lost his purse yesterday. Tip had it in his pocket, so he told me about it so I'd help give it back. I admit, it does sound a bit…odd, but it's alright.”
Marshalla stared at him. perplexed. “You not mad? Tip stole your brother's purse, and you not mad at him?”
Davian grinned. “When he told me, I immediately remembered all those times I'd lose things. My purse, my ring, my keys. But always found them in the carriage. It was Tip stealing them, wasn't it? If he was truly stealing them to keep he would've taken them with him, and not drop them in the carriage.”
A slow smile parted Marshalla's lips as she stared at Davian before reaching out and ruffling his hair. Then she turned back to Tip. “Well?”
“Oh,” Tip said before shoving his hands in his pocket. But as he did so, his eyes went wide.
“What is it?” Marshalla asked, a worried frown on her lips. In response, Tip pulled out a medallion affixed to a short chain from his right pocket. It was a clearly a special medallion, one with glowing symbols etched onto both sides. Frowning, he handed it to Davian, but his frown was quickly replaced with a grimace when he saw the fear in Davian's gaze.
“What is it?” Marshalla repeated as Davian took the medallion from Tip.
“It's Master Rocksplitter's runic key.”
“His what?”
“Parts of the Tower are off-limits to some. Those permitted to enter need to have one of these upon their person to be able to walk past the runic wards.”
“Oh dear,” Marshalla muttered.
“Sorry,” Tip mumbled.
Davian forced a smile as he shoved it into his pocket. “Master Rocksplitter dropped it, we saw it, and we will return it, nothing more.” Abruptly, he reached for Tip's left hand. He looked at Marshalla. Marshalla stared quizzically at him for a spell before smiling and reaching for Tip's right hand. Both looked at Tip. He smiled guiltily at each.
“Let's go to Father, then. We'll go the long way.”
And thus did they make their way down the grand corridor of the Shimmering Tower, their shoes sinking deep into the red carpet that ran the length and breadth of the vast corridor, a corridor whose height seemed to stretch to eternity. As they walked, Davian spoke of the different rooms they walked past. From the greeting rooms to the meditation chambers and guest rooms, he spoke of each at length, giving insights into each room, and what great events had transpired within. At last, they came to the end of the corridor, and into the central hall.
