Hidden Magic of Aldarae: Legacies, Chapter 1

Erryn Cooper leaned back against the wall behind him, letting his eyes slide shut with a sigh. He was tired, exhausted really, after a night of patrolling the city walls and then being told he was suddenly given a new assignment that started at dawn. The Captain had no pity, honestly.

Footsteps sounded, approaching from somewhere to his right. Then there was the scuffing sound of a pack being laid on the cobblestone street beside him, then a soft flump as his new companion let himself fall back against the wall next to him.

“You look tired,” a voice said, warm and a little raspy, as it had been since they were both children chasing each other around their mother’s skirts.

“Well spotted,” Erryn replied dryly, cracking open one eye to give his little brother a scathing sideways look.

Gareth grinned at him, completely unapologetic, woodsy green eyes crinkling charmingly at the corners. “Aw, what’s the matter, big brother? Didn’t get a long enough nap?”

Erryn scoffed and closed his eyes again, settling more comfortably against the wall. “Shut up,” he muttered. His obnoxiously awake brother only laughed. Of course, he was content, he hadn’t been up since early morning of the previous day. “I should report you for insubordination and just leave your scrawny ass here.”

“Hey!” Gareth protested indignantly, but Erryn could hear the amusement underlying his tone. “My ass is lithe, not scrawny.”

He finally opened both eyes, tilting his head to smirk down at the just slightly shorter man. “Whatever you say,” he drawled, stretching his arms up over his head.

Gareth scoffed and used the opportunity to aim a light punch at his ribs. “Prick.”

Erryn grinned and swiveled easily away from the blow. “Brat.”

His brother growled, eyes glinting with mischief, and leaped at him. Erryn spun and let him hurtle past, then ducked away from the elbow that came flying back toward his face.

“Come on, is that the best you can do?” he taunted, rocking back lightly to avoid another blow.

Gareth grinned, and Erryn suddenly had a very bad feeling. He may be bigger and stronger than his brother, but the younger man was quick and clever. Which could be all one needed in a fight—even a play one.

Gareth lunged again and Erryn took another step back. His foot snagged on something and too late he remembered the pack his brother had dropped next to the wall. Stupid. He blamed his sleepless night for the lapse in attention.

Of course, this didn’t do him much good as his foot tangled in the strap and he fell heavily onto his back with a “Woof” of exhaled breath. Years of training let him take the fall easily, but before he could roll back to his feet Gareth had leapt on him, pinning him in place and perching easily on his chest.

“Yield,” his brother demanded, smirking.

Erryn glowered at him. “Never,” he spat back. He could feel a smile starting to pull at his lips but worked to keep his frown in place.

“Oh, come off it! I won fair and square,” Gareth protested, laughing. Erryn wriggled, but he refused to budge. His grin was gloating and a little cocky. “A Varcian City Guard should yield with honor.” He winked, the eyes he had inherited from their mother gleaming. “It’s in the handbook and everything. Rule twenty-seven.”

Erryn, who had been shimmying in an effort to loosen his brother’s grip, suddenly grinned. Gareth’s smile dropped and he made to jump back, but Erryn was just too fast for him. He flipped himself off the ground and grabbed his brother by the upper arms, rolling so their positions were reversed and Gareth was the one pinned with Erryn hanging over him. “Rule six,” he said smugly, “never let your guard down.”

“Oi, get off!” Gareth protested, struggling and laughing. Erryn smiled serenely down at him.

“A Varcian City Guard should yield with honor,” he said easily, barely able to keep the laugh from his voice.

Gareth laughed again. At least his brother was a good sport, even if he was a bit of a brat. “Alright, alright, I yield. Now get off, you great lump, I can’t breathe!”

“Ah-hem.”

Uh-oh.

In an instant they were both back on their feet, brushing down their scarlet and gold tunics and snapping to attention.

Captain Reynard of the Varcian City Guard looked at two of his best men and sighed heavily. He was an imposing man, over six feet tall, with graying black hair and dark eyes that seemed to be perpetually narrowed in a disapproving squint, skin tanned and weathered by decades patrolling the walls. He had evidently just come through the gate that the two brothers had been tussling beside. There was a middle aged man in expensive, layered green and copper clothes standing beside him with one eyebrow raised and his mouth drawn in a thin line.

We are so in for it, Erryn thought resignedly. Still, he saluted and said, “Hello, Captain.” Then he turned slightly to face the nobleman and bowed at the waist. “Lord Warranhall.” Gareth copied him quietly.

“Milord, may I introduce Erryn and Gareth Cooper,” Captain Reynard said to the lord, gesturing between the two young men. “They will be your guards on this journey.” He glared at them, and Erryn suddenly felt like a small boy being scolded for stealing an extra sweet. He could feel Gareth wilting slightly beside him. “I assure you that they will be perfect models of decorum and competency.”

“Of course,” Lord Warranhall said, though he sounded less than convinced. Erryn winced internally. The lord looked them over with sharp brown eyes. “Cooper, both of you? Brothers?”

Erryn glanced sideways at the Captain, who gave him a barely perceptible nod, before deciding he was allowed to answer. “Yessir. Milord.”

Warranhall nodded thoughtfully. “Cooper,” he mused. Erryn tensed and felt Gareth do the same beside him. Here it comes… Sure enough, the realization lit the lord’s eyes and he stared at them. “Not Darian Cooper’s boys?”

Erryn and Gareth both nodded, and the younger murmured, “Yes, sir.”

As it always did in these situations, awe flashed across Lord Warranhall’s face, followed quickly by pity. “Your father was a great man. A hero,” he said quietly. He dipped his head. “I am sorry for your loss.”

Erryn and Gareth nodded again, but remained silent. It had been three years since their father had died, and still the reaction was always the same. Your father was a hero. I’m sorry for your loss.

“Well. I’m sure you will protect us on this journey,” Lord Warranhall said with a small, polite smile, and nodded at them regally.

Erryn bowed again and a moment later Gareth mimicked him, displaying matching, close-cropped mops of sandy blonde. He had to fight down the anger building in his stomach. Darian Cooper had been a great man, and a good father, and he missed him terribly. But there was something stinging about how people reacted when they learned of the boys’ parentage; of course they would be strong, fast, honorable, clever, excellent at their jobs- just look at who their father was.

Weren’t they worth anything on their own?

“Quite right,” Captain Reynard said, oblivious to Erryn’s inner turmoil. He gave the boys a last quick once over and nodded, then turned back to the lord. “Why don’t you get in the carriage with your family, milord? It is almost time to depart.”

“Yes, of course.” Lord Warranhall nodded at them all, then turned and walked back through the gate, behind the wall that encircled his family’s manor.

The Captain snapped his head around and locked the brothers in that bone-chilling glare. “I trust you understand what an honor this mission is,” he spat out, crossing his arms over his chest.

They both nodded emphatically. “Yessir.”

“The Warranhalls aren’t the most affluent noble family, but they are vital to the survival of this city- this country,” the Captain continued.

More nodding. “Yessir.”

“They are second only to the Ravenfells, fifth in line for royal succession- we cannot risk them being in danger in here. The coast is safer, away from this blasted war.” His glare intensified. “You will deliver them safe and happy to their seaside manor, am I understood?”

“Yessir.”

The Captain sighed, running a hand down his face. Then he moved toward them and clapped a hand on each of their shoulders. “I know you can do this, boys,” he said, voice and face softening. For a moment he looked like the man who had come to their home and teased their mother, laughed with their father, bounced Gareth on his knee and obliged Erryn’s request for story after story of life in the Guard. Neither of them protested being called “boy”.

He squeezed their shoulders, then stepped back. Once again he was the Captain. “Don’t let me down.”

They both stood up just a bit straighter. “Yessir.”

ΦΨΦ

The first day started out almost too easy, all things considered. The Warranhall family was large--the lord and lady, four sons and two daughters--but they opted to bring only four servants on their journey: two maids and two manservants. At least, that’s what Erryn assumed their jobs were. He didn’t really bother to ask.

He and Gareth rode beside the carriage with the servants trailing behind on their own horses. They had been briefly introduced to the Warranhall family before setting out through the city gates, but things had been in such a blur and he was still so tired that Erryn hadn’t really absorbed any information. It didn’t really matter. He’d just call them all “milord” or “milady” anyway.

They rode in peace and quiet for the first few miles out of the city, passing farms and small villages where people waved in a friendly, smiling way as they passed. Erryn rode straight ahead, maybe nodding to the wavers once or twice. Gareth, on the other hand, waved back enthusiastically and grinned at everyone they saw. Erryn rolled his eyes every time he caught a glimpse of him on the other side of the carriage.

“Your brother has a happy nature.”

He started so violently that he jerked his mount’s reins. The gelding’s head tossed in protest and he snorted. Erryn reached down unconsciously to run his hand over the creature’s deep brown coat by way of apology as he looked around to see who had startled him.

It was one of the maids. She had brought her horse up beside him without him even noticing--what was wrong with him today?--and was watching him with large, doe brown eyes set under rather severe brows.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, unsure why she was bothering to interact with him. “Yes. He does,” he replied cautiously, watching her as intently as she watched him.

Suddenly she smiled, lips curving up to reveal dimples, and she instantly looked much less severe and looming. Her hair was tied back under a kerchief, but a few strands had escaped to tangle across her face so he could see that it was a rich shade of brown with reddish threads woven through. “You do too, even if you hide it,” she decided, still smiling.

“Ah…thank you?” Well, what was he supposed to say to that? This girl--more of a woman really, probably only few years younger than him--seemed far too forward to be a lady’s maid.

“I don’t think we’ve actually been introduced,” she continued, edging her horse a shade closer to his. Her mount, a dove gray mare, whickered at his gelding, and the animal whinnied back. “My name is Ciara.”

A strange name. An old name, from the time before magic turned on them and was banned from their lands. Perhaps her parents were fanatics. It happened sometimes, folks who idealized the old stories just a bit too much. Not enough to earn themselves a pyre, but enough to make their neighbors nervous.

He looked her over again, really taking in her fair skin and dark eyes, the fact that she had two dimples on the left side of her mouth and only one on the right. “I’m Erryn,” he replied after a moment. Then, thinking he might as well get it over with, added, “Erryn Copper.”

“I know,” she said easily, eyes drifting to the side of the dirt road where a few dusty children were playing some kind of skipping game. “I heard Lord Warranhall talking to Mina and the others about you.”

He tried to remember who Mina was. One of the daughters, he thought the older one. “You are…Mina’s maid?” he questioned. Alright, so the girl was a bit odd--it was still nice to have some conversation, and it wasn’t as though they were about to be attacked.

She nodded. “Sort of. I watch over both the girls, neither of them is quite old enough to need a real maid yet. Little brats,” she added fondly.

Erryn let out a bark of surprised laughter. He couldn’t help it. He looked at the girl with something like awe. “Should you really be saying things like that? Won’t you be punished for disrespect or something?”

Ciara grinned at him, chuckling. “No, not unless Lady Warranhall hears me. She’s the only one who gets in a tizzy about stuff like that, the rest are okay. For nobles.”

Erryn laughed again. It was nice. It had been a long time since he’d talked with someone outside of the City Guard. Once you joined the Guard, your work was your life. And she seemingly didn't know, or didn't care, who his father was.

Either way, it was nice.

"So how long have you worked for the Warranhalls?" he asked.

"Twelve years."

He blinked, taken aback. Twelve years? That couldn't be true, could it? "Ah...forgive me, but how old are you?"

She laughed--he supposed his expression must have been priceless--and turned those dimples back to him. "Twenty." He stared at her and she giggled.

"You've been working in a noble house since you were eight?" he asked incredulously. He knew most gentry kept younger pages and such around the place, but to his understanding the youngest of that lot were usually twelve or so. Eight seemed...inordinately young.

She nodded. "In one way or another. My mother was Lady Warranhall's maid, so I was always around, in the kitchens or something. When she died they just sort of...kept me on."

He was a little shocked by how casually she mentioned her mother's death, though perhaps he shouldn't have been. He was much the same way about his father.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

She shrugged. "And I'm sorry about your father." She gave him a sort of sideways look out of the corner of her eye. "I met Captain Cooper once. He was kind to me."

"Oh." Not exactly shocking, but he couldn't say he'd been expecting it. "How did you--?"

"Just when I was out past curfew one night. I got held up in the market and he let me off with a warning." She was looking ahead now. He couldn't really see her expression. "I was sorry to hear that he'd died."

Erryn scoffed bitterly, quite without making the conscious decision to do so. "Yeah. Me too."

Ciara started guiltily and looked at him with wide eyes. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't--"

"No, it's alright," he cut her off quickly. "It's actually kind of...nice to talk to someone who doesn't tiptoe around the subject. It's just..." His voice trailed off.

"Sore," Ciara supplied after a few quiet moments. He looked at her and saw something very familiar in her eyes. "Like an old wound that's never quite healed."

He nodded. "Exactly." Strange. This was so strange, how quickly and easily he'd opened up to this girl, this stranger. Still, he couldn't say he was regretting it.

"So how long have you been in the Guard then?" she asked after another moment or two.

"Five years," he replied. "Since I was eighteen."

She nodded. It was common for boys to start their Guard training around that age. "Your brother?"

"The same, started at eighteen. He's two years younger than me, though."

As if on cue, they heard childlike shrieks of delight and a rasping, boisterous laugh from the other side of the carriage. Erryn sighed and spurred his horse forward to peer around at what was going on, Ciara following.

Gareth seemed to have picked up a small parade of children as they'd been riding, and now he was making ridiculous faces at them from atop his horse, much to their delight. It wasn't everyday they saw an elite Varcian Guard making a fool of himself.

Erryn sighed again, rolling his eyes. "Oi, Gareth!"

His brother jumped, startling his horse. The roan creature neighed in surprised protest and gave a little buck, almost making Gareth lose his seat. "What?" he demanded once he'd righted himself, glaring at his brother reproachfully.

"Can't you keep it together just until we break for lunch?" Erryn sighed.

Gareth gave him a cheeky grin. "You know, I don't think I can, brother dear. Sorry!" The children clustered around his horse giggled with glee, looking back and forth between them.

Erryn knew better than to pursue a futile cause, so he just rolled his eyes and let his horse drop back beside the carriage again, ignoring the scandalized look the manservant who was acting as driver was giving him. "Git," he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

Ciara, who had let her horse drop back beside his, chuckled softly. "Like I said, a happy nature."

Erryn shook his head, sighing heavily. Ciara's chuckle became a full throated laugh. "Do you see those lil'uns? Like ducklings, all trailing after him!" She laughed again and Erryn found a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. She had a very infectious laugh.

"Hey, do me a favor?" he asked, smiling slightly. She sobered a bit and looked at him questioningly. "Could you ride with him a bit? Keep an eye on him, just 'til we have a break." He looked skyward and muttered, "Something tells me the two of you will get along famously."

Ciara laughed again, bright and airy, and gave him a jaunty salute. "Yessir, Mister Guardsman, sir!" She turned her horse to weave around to the other side of the carriage.

Erryn rolled his eyes again--Mam's right, if I'm not careful they'll get stuck up there--but he was smiling. Maybe this job could have a bit of fun to it after all.