C5 Chapter 5: A Great Service to the Landgrave

By the time Nikko reached the enormous gate in the wall surrounding Hocatin, the skies had grown even murkier and a light rain had begun to fall. The high wall, with its towers and battlements, still impressed the peasant boy. Now and then, he saw the threatening tips of spears carried by the soldiers who patrolled the wall-walk inside the fortress. He was still gazing up in awe at the towering arch over the entrance as he tried to pass through into the town.

“Hold yer horses, lad!” a fierce looking man snarled at him. The man's huge hand dug hard into Nikko's shoulder and pinned him to the spot with brute strength. “Where do you think you're off to?”

Nikko looked in fright at the man glowering at him and realized it was a sentry that he had completely failed to notice. The man's leather doublet flaunted the large crest with the tower rising in front of the mountains. His angry face half hidden by his helmet, the fearsome soldier held the young man with his left hand and his weapon, a kind of axe with a long shaft, almost as big as the man himself, with his right.

“I'd like to enter the city, sir,” Nikko answered tentatively. He noticed other guards, then. Suddenly frightened, the naïve youngster wondered if there were conditions attached to entering Hocatin.

“We don't let beggars like you in,” muttered one of the other guards, bored, as the first guard, with a violent shove, hurled the skinny lad back out through the archway.

Nikko, down on his hands and knees in the muck, was completely bewildered. He had not imagined that things would go like this.

“Move along, vagabond!” the grim soldier ordered loudly.

Although intimidated, Nikko remembered how important his mission was, to get the long overdue letter to the landgrave. He summoned up all his courage and approached the guardsmen again as cautiously as he could, but the men reacted even more aggressively than before.

“I've got a letter,” Nikko said, speaking fast, before the soldiers pummeled him again.

“Oh, a letter,” taunted the guard who'd pushed him in the mud, then he went on in a spiteful tone, “So who's it for? Let me guess. For the … Landgrave of Hocatin?!” he quipped, winning a hearty laugh from the other guards.

“Uh … yes. To his Serene Highness, the Landgrave of Hocatin. That's the address,” Nikko replied, baffled at what the soldiers found so funny.

“Push off, you little …!” barked the soldier, raising his weapon threateningly.

Nikko quickly backtracked a few steps, then put his backpack down on the ground. He pulled out the leather satchel, wanting to show the guards the letter as proof, when his eye fell on the magic wand. For a moment, he thought about using it to teach the obnoxious soldiers a lesson, but dropped the thought again just as quickly.

He held the leather satchel in front of him like some kind of entry permit. And the looks on the faces of the guardsmen changed from mockery to amazement.

“Where did you get that?” asked the soldier in front of Nikko, his eyes narrowed.

“What's going on here?” barked another voice then, before Nikko could give the soldier an answer.

“We … uh … are establishing the facts of a matter, sergeant,” stammered the soldier, snapping to attention, now much less sure of himself.

“Ah, my dear soldier,” said the newly arrived man, who was also a soldier, but wearing chain mail. His voice dripped sarcasm. “No doubt this is your very own idea—genuinely refreshing, to be sure—of a PROPER and ORDERLY REPORT!”

“Sergeant, east gate guard reporting! Suspicious subject engaged! Suspect claims to be delivering a letter for his Serene Highness,” the soldier rapped out.

“Better, better,” said the sergeant. Then he turned to Nikko. “Is this true?” he asked, at which the lad merely nodded.

“Show me!” the sergeant commanded, and Nikko handed over the satchel without a second thought.

The soldier opened the satchel for a moment but did not take the letter out. Then he gave a nod.

“Good. You,” he said to one of the guards. “Take a four-man escort from the tower. Hop to it!”

The guard saluted snappily and jogged off. Nikko had a chance to look more closely at the sergeant, who stood bolt upright with his hands clasped behind his back. He did not entirely understand what was going on, but it looked as if he was about to be escorted to the landgrave. The sergeant was middle-aged, with a wiry build. He was clean shaven and his hair was cropped close to his scalp. In contrast to the guardsmen, he wore no helmet, but his armor was certainly of better quality.

In a minute, the guard reappeared with four additional soldiers in tow.

“Good. Follow me!” the sergeant said to Nikko, handing the leather satchel back to him.

Walking through the town with an escort like that made Nikko feel special. The sergeant led the way with the boy just behind him. One soldier marched on the left, another on the right, and two more brought up the rear. Unfortunately, it started pelting with rain, which seemed to make no difference whatsoever to the soldiers; even when the heavens really opened, not one of them let anything show.

Nikko could not make out much of this new town in the miserable weather, except that the houses were built high and had decent walls. There was no comparison to the crooked huts of his home village. But the escort kept up a fast pace as they marched through the gray streets, and Nikko's impressions were no more than fleeting.

After a few minutes, they came to a wide, stone bridge that led out to a large island in a lake. A huge building had been constructed on the island, with many high towers, but Nikko could not make out many details through the teeming rain.

On the other side of the bridge, a second group of soldiers guarded a gate built directly over the bridge.

“The duty officer?” the sergeant asked in a harsh tone that showed that he had no intention of dealing with the simple guards.

One of the soldiers nodded and another trotted away, returning a short time later with a young man in chain mail, with a breastplate made of polished metal. A short sword dangled at his side; even a farmer's boy like Nikko knew that swords were expensive.

“Miserable weather!” the duty officer moaned the moment he arrived. “For your sake, sergeant, I hope you have not disturbed me for nothing.”

“Lieutenant, I report a messenger for his Serene Highness. I hope sincerely not to be importuning you unduly,” the sergeant said brusquely.

“That bumpkin? Are you trying …” the lieutenant sneered. “Oh, whatever. Come with me, bumpkin, this –”

“Messenger duly handed over, Lieutenant,” the sergeant interrupted.

“What?” the officer said. Then, peevish, he replied, “All right, all right. If that's how you want it. Now back to your gate …” In an undertone, he added, “… or whatever mudhole you crawled out of.”

Nikko took no more notice of the sergeant, and followed the lieutenant through the rain and over a second bridge, where they came to an abrupt halt at another gate.

“A present for the cap'n,” said the lieutenant to the guards there. Then he sneezed magnificently and turned around, marching back over the bridge without another word.

One of the guards sauntered off, presumably to announce to the “cap'n” that he had a present for him. Nikko found the whole process amusing, and wondered how many times he would be passed up the line. But when the guard returned, he brought with him an imposing man in glittering armor—armor that far outshone even the lieutenant's gleaming plate. The other soldiers immediately snapped to attention.

“Lagró of Briscár, captain of the landgrave's bodyguard and commander of Hocatin castle. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?” the high-ranking man said. He radiated a dignity that Nikko had never experienced before.

“Um … Nikko,” he stammered. He was suddenly acutely aware of how wretched he must look, wearing a farm boy's clothes filthy from long days of travel and soaked by the rain.

“Ah …” the captain replied, confused. “My pleasure, I'm sure. On what mission has he come?”

“I'm delivering a letter to … uh, to his … his Serene … to the Landgrave … the Landgrave of Hocatin,” Nikko stuttered, suddenly mortified that he might say the wrong thing.

“Well. And I am sure he would not be standing before me if he were not telling the truth, would he?” the captain replied in an extremely haughty tone. “He would do well to hand over the letter.”

Nikko, who had carried the leather satchel hung around his neck since leaving the city gate, took out the thick envelope hurriedly and was overjoyed to find that it was still dry. He handed the sealed missive to the officer, who nodded and took it from him, then inspected the seal closely.

“From where does he have this?” the officer asked sharply.

“From up in the pass,” Nikko replied, feeling more and more uneasy. More than anything, he had no idea why the man was always referring to him as “he.”

“The Vyldam pass, he probably means,” the captain murmured to himself. “Long-awaited news from Hymal. Delivered by a farm boy. How ironic, how ironic …” After a pause, he abruptly said, “Servant?”

“My lord?” replied a gaunt little man who bustled over to the captain, bowing deeply.

“See to it that our … guest … is taken care of. He is to wash, his clothes are to be cleaned, and his hair cut. I have no doubt that the seneschal will want to speak to him later, and perhaps even the landgrave. Is that clear?”

“Certainly, my lord, every word,” the obsequious figure replied. Then he turned to Nikko and, in a gentle voice, said “Come with me, little man.”

Nikko sat in the servants' kitchen in the landgravial castle and felt on top of the world. He had taken the first hot, foamy bath of his life and was probably cleaner at that moment than he had ever been before. Several attendants had made sure that he presented a much more acceptable figure than he had when he'd arrived. They had cut his hair and his nails and dressed him in the clothes of a page; his own things had been so filthy that they first had to be thoroughly washed, and would only be finished the next day. Now, a chubby cook in a bright white bonnet was plying him with as much food as he could possibly eat.

He was beginning to wonder if anyone would still be needing him that day when the servant he'd first encountered stepped humbly into the kitchen. “The seneschal has sent for you. Please follow me,” he said in his quiet voice, and Nikko obeyed.

“What is a seneschal, exactly?” he asked the servant as they climbed a narrow, spiral staircase.

“His Serene Highness's left and right hand,” the servant replied.

They passed through more stairways and corridors and eventually arrived at a large, heavy wooden door with two bored-looking sentries dressed in colorful tunics.

“The courier, as ordered,” the servant said to the sentries, then he bowed slightly and returned the way he had come.

“Arms out to your sides!” one of the sentries ordered Nikko, but without much enthusiasm.

Nikko was terribly excited. The huge castle with its magnificently furnished rooms, corridors and stairways was the most impressive place he had ever seen. Daylight fell through small but artfully decorated windows, and even where no light penetrated into the interior, there were countless torches and lamps. Paintings and fine tapestries adorned the hallways, and soft carpets lay underfoot. Now that he was so close to talking to such an obviously important man, the sentries' orders made him feel even more insecure than he already was. But he obeyed, and the guard felt him over from head to foot without a word. Nikko found the search uncomfortable, and it didn't help that he had no idea what it was all about.

“Clean,” said the sentry in a dry tone, then he and the other sentry each pulled open one wing of the large door.

Through the open door, Nikko could make out a large room. A long, red carpet led from the entry to a desk constructed of dark wood, and behind the desk there sat an old man.

“Get in there!” ordered one of the sentries in a firm whisper.

Nikko stepped inside tentatively and the two sentries followed him in, locked the large door from the inside, and took up defensive posts on either side of it.

“Go over to him,” whispered the sentry again when Nikko just stood there, too awed to move.

Finally, Nikko followed the red carpet toward the carved wooden table where the old man sat. He seemed not to take any notice of Nikko, and did not raise his eyes from the various papers laid out before him.

“He shall be seated,” said the important man, still without looking up.

As Nikko took a seat on one of the two upholstered chairs in front of the table, the man leveled his eyes at him. The seneschal radiated an air of exceptional dignity. Short, silver-white hair, a neatly trimmed full white beard with dark streaks, and a magnificent robe, the like of which Nikko had never seen. Glistening black cloth embroidered in gold and silver. The nobleman had an overwhelming, almost paralyzing, effect on the simple village lad.

“I am seneschal to His Serene Highness, the Landgrave of Hocatin,” said the dignitary in an exalted voice. “I shall now put to him a number of questions. By the laws of the realm and the landgraviate, these questions are to be answered truthfully and thoroughly. Any violation shall be punishable as treason.”

Nikko swallowed, then gave an abashed nod as the seneschal's intense gaze bored into him. In his nervousness, his brow began to sweat. The man had addressed Nikko in the third person again, which unnerved him even more.

“Good,” the seneschal continued, slowly dipping his quill in a little bottle of ink. “Name?”

“Nikko,” said the lad in a small voice.

“No family name, I assume?” the officer said drily, making a note.

“No. But I'm from the southeast farm.” Nikko did his best to give as much information as possible.

“Home town?”

“Vyldoro.”

“Date of birth? Or unknown …”

“Unknown, lord.”

“Does he at least know his age?” the old man said with a shake of his head.

“This year will be my sixteenth summer.”

“That is no more than half an answer,” the seneschal chided. “Good. In which season was he born? Does he at least know that?”

“In the autumn, sir,” Nikko replied, feeling a little embarrassed.

“So, fifteen. All right. Enough of that. Now let's get to what matters. From where does he have the letter?”

“From the Vyldam Pass.”

“The Vyldam Pass?”

“Yes. At least, that's what some people call it,” said Nikko. “For us, it's just the pass.”

“So the letter simply lay up in the pass?” the seneschal asked.

“It was in a broken-down building up there,” Nikko explained. “With a frozen corpse.”

“Ah. Then why not say so straight away …” the seneschal said soberly. “Did he search the corpse?”

“No. I was scared and I stumbled over the bag when I tried to run away,” Nikko replied. All the questions were starting to fray his nerves.

“And what was his business in the customs post?”

“I was sheltering from a snowstorm.”

“Then why did he take the satchel if he was so frightened?”

“I don't know. I didn't know I'd taken it.” Nikko was beginning to feel like he was in big trouble. He should have just the left the damnable satchel where it was or thrown it away!

“Truthful and thorough,” the seneschal reminded him in a serious voice.

“I really don't know,” Nikko said, the first tears brimming in his eyes.

“He should calm himself down,” said the seneschal then, his voice gentler. “I believe him.” The man paused in his questioning then for several moments, and wrote more notes. Nikko used the time to try to get his emotions under control. He told himself that he hadn't done anything wrong, so he had nothing to worry about!

“Good,” the seneschal finally continued. “What was he doing up at the Vyldam pass in the first place?”

“I was on my way back from Hymal.” He had decided to tell the unvarnished truth. The old fox would see through a lie in any case. The boy only hoped that he would be able to leave Thorodos out of the picture without the seneschal noticing. Fodaj had warned him not to say a word about the old man, after all.

“He was in Hymal, he says?” the old man asked with his eyebrows raised. “What did he see over there?”

“I didn't get very far. Terrible creatures attacked me on the plain and drove me into the woods, where invisible archers killed all of them. Whoever was in the forest shot at me, too. Then I came back over the pass as fast as I could.”

“Slowly, slowly,” the seneschal said, but he sounded very interested. “One thing at a time. What kind of creatures did he see? Describe them!”

“Hairy. Bow-legged. Faces like wild pigs.”

“Orcs? That would fit,” the old man murmured. “How many orcs attacked him?”

“About a dozen, sir.”

“What kind of weapons?”

“Clubs. One had a huge axe.”

“And they attacked him on the plain?”

“Yes, sir. I ran into the forest to hide.”

“The forest in the north?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say about invisible … archers?” said the seneschal, glancing down at his notes.

“All I heard were the shots that killed the orcs. They shot one arrow at my feet and one into my backpack. I kept that one.”

“Does he have it with him? The arrow?”

“It's in my backpack.”

“Have the messenger's backpack brought here,” the seneschal ordered the sentries at the gate, at which one of them immediately left the room.

The old man turned back to his notes and seemed to forget that Nikko was there. For his part, Nikko was glad that the interrogation had not gone as far as Thorodos, and he wondered how he might answer a possible question about the purpose of his trip to Hymal.

The sentry returned after a few minutes, carrying Nikko's backpack. He handed it to the seneschal. Nikko held his breath, because his magic wand was also inside the pack. If the old man were to find that, he would certainly have some questions to answer. But the seneschal directed the guard to give the pack to Nikko instead, who quickly took out the arrow and handed it to the old man. He scrutinized the finely wrought piece for a long time, in particular the engravings decorating the arrowhead, before finally nodding thoughtfully.

“He has done this landgraviate a great service,” he said, his voice now solemn. “He is due our gratitude. In addition, the landgraviate sees fit to reward him with ten pieces of silver. He is, however, not yet free to leave. For now, he shall remain our guest here in the castle.”

“Thank you, lord,” said Nikko, honestly surprised, and he accepted the silver with an self-conscious bow.

“The servant will show him to his quarters,” said the seneschal, concluding their meeting, and he gestured to the lad to leave.

Nikko ate a quick but delicious evening meal in the servants' kitchen, then retired to his room. He had been given a room in the part of the castle where the landgrave's emissaries slept: a great privilege for a farmer's boy, the servant had assured him.

He was certainly tired—it had been a long and tiring day, after all—but could not fall asleep. His long session with the seneschal had made him feel extremely uneasy. He did not know why he couldn't just leave again. He had a lot to think about. Too much, really, to allow him sleep soundly. Alone in his room, he realized how far he had come. Barely three weeks before, he had left Vyldoro as a guileless goatherd with old Thorodos, but now here he was, a guest, lying in a soft bed somewhere in the middle of the landgravial castle. Where would things go from here?

It must have been late in the evening. Nikko still lay on his bed with his eyes open when he suddenly heard voices in the corridor outside, then a knock on his door.

“Yes?” he said softly.

The servant tentatively opened the door and ushered a second man inside. The stranger stepped into the room, and although Nikko could not make him out very well in the glimmer of light cast by the servant's lantern, he could see he was a noble.

“That's him?” the man asked the servant, who smiled subserviently and nodded in affirmation. “So you're the messenger?” the stranger asked, now looking at Nikko. Then, without waiting for an answer, he said, “Danuwil of Bregánt.”

Nikko was feeling rather confused, and had really no idea how he was supposed to react. “Hello,” he finally said, and quickly added, “I'm Nikko.”

“You have been assigned to me as guide and helper,” said the newcomer. “We leave early tomorrow morning. A servant will wake you. Rest now. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

Before Nikko could say another word, the nobleman had turned away again and left the small chamber. With his subservient smile firmly in place, the servant backed out after the stranger and locked the door from the outside, leaving young Nikko alone and confused in the darkness of the room.