“The accumulation of many wise councilors is the first step towards any ruler’s success.” —Memoirs of Lady Lilian
Tower Castle, Cryptonia, Ground Plane
“Lord Jasper. Oh, do get up, ser. It’s nearly the eleventh bell.”
“What?” Jasper jerked upright, and his head pounded. “Ugh, damn.” He rubbed his face tiredly. “Calian?”
“Yes, ser. Mistress Fernilla insisted I allow you to rest—though how she considers you lying face down in a book to be ‘rest’, I will never know.”
“Mmph,” he closed the third volume of History of Cryptonia with a thump, and sat back, stretching. “It wasn’t a dream then.”
“I am afraid not.” Calian silently padded forward to peer over his shoulder. “Did you really read the first two last night alone?” To Jasper, he almost sounded impressed, but that could have been the lack of sleep talking.
“Uh-huh. ADHD and Autism are good for some things, apparently. Hyper-fixation for the win.” Jasper gave him a double thumbs up.
“I have not the faintest idea what those words mean in that order,” Calian responded flatly. “Perhaps you need something to wake you up? Come to the serving room, second landing downstairs. Breakfast will be waiting.”
“Go on. I’ll be there in a minute,” Jasper waved him away. “I need a second.”
“As you wish.” The next time he looked up, Calian was gone.
“Great,” he groaned, pushing back from the table to stand. “My Alfred is Batman.”
Jasper glanced over at the bed and saw it was perfectly made. New clothes lay on top of the outer furs, and a pair of leather boots sat on the floor beneath. He slid on the fresh brown trousers, tugged on stockings, and pulled the green tunic over his head before stepping into the boots. He was largely unsurprised to find they were all in his size. He finished dressing and looked out of his window at the sprawling landscape. At some point the previous night, he had questioned whether staying and not trying to get home was a wise idea. Of course, he was quickly assaulted by the knowledge that refusing the call to action and avoiding destiny usually led to destiny coming to your house and forcibly taking you to said destiny.
“Fate has been trying to reach you about your destiny’s extended warranty,” Jasper muttered with a snort, shaking his head. He would be lying if he said he did not feel a thrill of excitement bloom inside him. He really was in another world.
It still did not feel real as he trudged down the spiral stairs and passed a door with a small landing. On the knob was a tiny engraving of a scroll and a feather. Jasper made a face but refrained from opening it. This could not be the right room. There was no light from under the door, and a draft of cool air blew beneath it. He kept going down the stairs to the serving room. This door was cracked and he could see Calian inside stirring a cup of what he assumed was tea. Fern was sitting at the oval table and looked up when he entered. She made a move to stand but Jasper waved for her to continue eating.
“No, don’t let me keep you, I’m late.”
“Thank you, Lord,” she took her seat once more. Breakfast was sausage, eggs, and some kind of greens he had never seen before. “Please sit, I just took yours out.”
“Out of what?” His mind raced to catch up with the present. He wondered if somehow these people had magical microwaves. But Fern pointed to the small stone oven in the corner. A hinged half-moon iron door could be opened to allow the cook to move food in and out. Beside it was a stack of split wood. “Ahh, I see.”
“Cook Harla had it built to account for our former Lord’s proclivity to sleep in,” Calian explained. “He would be quite irate if his breakfast was cold when he finally decided to drag himself out of bed.”
“I’ll try to do better,” Jasper chuckled, sitting across from Fern to tuck in. “This looks amazing.”
“Cook thought your first real meal should be something with substance,” Fern smiled. “She reminded me that she also needs to speak with you regarding the upcoming welcome feast.”
“Feast?” His eyebrows went up. “That sounds slightly extravagant.”
“It could be, but I would advise against it, if at all possible,” said Calian. “Our treasury has been suffering for some time, and an expensive celebration would cost us more than a pretty copper.”
“We’ll keep it simple then.” Jasper began cutting sausage and greens, hungrily devouring the food. “Will she be available after breakfast?”
“She will be getting started on lunch shortly, but I am sure she will take time to speak with you,” Fern said. He nodded, swallowing.
“Good. I can thank her for this too, then.”
“She will appreciate that,” said Calian. “Bear in mind that the denizens of this castle and the outbounds are accustomed to a more ham-fisted approach.” He frowned. “Proceed with great care when conversing with them. Some will be comfortable from the start. Others will take more time.”
“I understand. I will be cautious.” He turned to Fern. “Who makes up the majority of the castle residents? I saw many humans from the windows. And what is that room with the scroll and feather on the knob?” Fern smiled at his barrage of questions, but the steward carried on, smooth as butter.
“That would be the Aviary, my Lord,” said Calian. “Drolly referred to as ‘the coop’ by less understanding individuals who do not appreciate the inhabitants.”
“We have a bunch of birds?” Jasper’s eyebrows went up. It seemed to be an odd place to house flying creatures, particularly if there were a flock of them. Calian smirked quietly and shook his head.
“Not exactly, ser. They are harpies.” Jasper stopped chewing.
“What?” His mind raced with the thought of hag-like women with talons and a hunger for human flesh.
“They typically act as messengers for us, though there has only been one or two in residence of late. The previous Lord did not like them. He hurt their feelings.” Calian’s expression became one of disapproval before resuming his professional air. “Would you like to go in?” Jasper would not admit yet that he was nervous about seeing a harpy. In Greek legends, harpies are nasty creatures and known to cause trouble. He was hesitant to dive in, despite the apparent safety.
“Perhaps another time. I’ve got a lot to learn before I go blundering in.” He thought about the location of the door momentarily. “Wait. Shouldn’t that door open onto the outside?” Calian chuckled.
“The Tower is full of mysteries and not everything makes sense as it normally would,” he explained. “The Aviary does open to the outside world, but there is ample space inside for several harpies to live comfortably.” Jasper smirked around his sausage.
“You mean it’s bigger on the inside?”
“In a manner of speaking, I suppose,” Calian agreed, confused at the human’s mirth.
“Most of your subjects will be human,” added Fern. “There are a smattering of elves, the dwarven kitchens and house staff, some gnomes, and of course half breeds. Fewer are the beastkin that mingle here. More in the south, for that is the border between our land and theirs.”
“Yes, I saw in the history book upstairs there were tribes on this side of the Middle Mounts to the south,” Jasper nodded. “I only skimmed some of the races listed there, do you mind giving me a refresher?”
“Of course.” Fern smiled. “One of those lands in the south is claimed by the minotaurs. We import a decent amount of their grain, corn, and not a small quantity of vegetables. Their farms are one of the reasons the south has remained relatively peaceful for some time.”
“Really?” He asked, popping a bite of sausage in his mouth. The mental image of an enormous bovine warrior being a farmer seemed a bit incongruous. He supposed it made sense if Cryptonia was as peaceful as the history book claimed, but if it were the case, why the four forts?
“Yes,” Calian nodded with certainty, letting his comically small spoon drip into his cup before taking a sip. “If their crop production were not such a linchpin to the economy of the region and supplying so many hungry bellies, I believe we would have had to manage a great deal more raids. Unfortunately, Lerontis still managed to ostracize many of the southern tribes. He did not take well to the beastkin folk.”
“I’m growing to dislike him more and more,” Jasper snorted. “Just how many races are there south of us? I got the feeling that there were quite a few from my reading last night, but I did not have enough time to study it more closely.”
“I will show you more precise information regarding trade between the beastkin and peoples in the area after we finish touring the grounds later this afternoon,” said the vampire. “We need to acquaint you with the layout of the castle as well as—”
“Here he is!” cried an excited voice from the open door. Jasper turned, a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth. A large man in chainmail stepped through and threw his arms wide. “Awake and eating, thank the gods! By my head, I thought we had gained a good Lord and lost him in one day.” Jasper recognized him as the knight he had seen at the booth before and after his duel.
His confident baritone had a cadence and hitch to it that Jasper could not place. It was almost what he imagined an ancient Saxon would sound like if they spoke modern English. The magic of this world seemed to be playing with his ears as well as his perception of the written word. The knight wore a full mail coat with short sleeves. His leggings were tucked into tightly wrapped riding boots, and his sword hung comfortably at his side. On top of his mail, a simple blank canvas tabard hung with a silver brooch of a pine tree holding his cloak. On the knight’s shoulder hung a short braid of red rope, a stylized silver sword surrounded by golden flames dangling from the end. His straight black hair was pulled back at the temples and held in place with a leather cord. He had a well-trimmed beard that was broken by the thin scar running down the left side of his jaw. Another smaller scar marked the right side of his forehead. His blue eyes twinkled, and the lines at the corner of his eyes and mouth told Jasper he laughed openly and often.
“Titus?”
“That is I, Lord,” he nodded, giving a shallow bow. “Senior Captain Titus Merido. I’m in charge of the castle armsmen, and I’m your military advisor.” Jasper put aside his food and stood to greet him properly, offering his hand for shaking. Titus hesitated for a moment, then removed his leather glove and took the young lord’s hand. He was strong. Jasper could feel the taut tendons in his grip. “An honor to meet you, honestly, my Lord. I must apologize for our cloak and dagger behavior.” He sighed. “The Land sometimes puts us in a position we would rather not be and places a limit on what passes our lips. I will say today, I am glad it was you, ser.”
“Thank you, Titus, but I am no knight, and I do not feel I have earned such a rank as ‘Lord’.” He caught Calian’s gaze shift over to him out of the corner of my eye. “Please call me Jasper—all of you.” Titus’ eyebrows went up briefly before he gave a final squeeze of his hand and nodded.
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“As you wish. Miss Fern informed me you were recovering well, and I need a few minutes of your time before you go about becoming acclimated to the castle.”
“Of course,” Jasper gestured to the table and empty chair beside his. “Please sit, and we can talk.” Titus lowered himself with a heavy whump as his seat took the weight of the mail. Fern poured water for the two of them and Titus drank before continuing.
“Our physical defenses are mostly sound, but I have not been able to reliably drill the majority of our militia—I cannot bring myself to call them soldiers, brave as some of them are—for some time,” he said. “There are maybe forty or fifty veterans who have been with me for several years. These I would trust wholeheartedly in a battle. I worry about the rest.”
“How many fighters do we have?” Jasper asked, leaning forward to brace his forearms on the table with interest. Here was something he understood. Military strategy, tactics, building a defensible position. He had read dozens of books, sat through countless documentaries, visited museums and historical battlefields across the U.S. because he was absolutely obsessed with military history. Obviously, there was not much medieval history in America, but that did not stop him consuming every bit of media he could. Alexander, Julius Caesar, Genghis Khan, Alfred of England, the Vikings, the Crusades, the list went on. Information whirled through his mind as he listened to Titus’ brief report. The knight looked thrilled to finally have someone interested in resolving security issues.
“There are some hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred fighters here at the Tower,” he said. “Plus those we have posted at the forts. Calian, do you have a map? It will be easier to explain with one.” Jasper held up a hand to stop them.
“Before we begin, I want to give all three of you a simple order.” Calian’s dark eyes glinted, Fern tilted her head in interest, and Titus’ brow furrowed. They waited for Jasper to continue. “I know I do not know everything. I think I am wise enough to know there is much I will need to learn. Even then, I believe I will not have all the answers,” he said plainly, placing his hands on the table. “What I would ask of you is that if I am about to make a terrible decision or mistake, I want you to either take me aside or call me out directly. I will not have the people suffer because I was not wise enough to see other options or did not know.” The three were silent for several moments. Titus exchanged a glance with Fern, then nodded confidently. Calian did not even attempt to hide his smile.
“As you say, Jasper,” he nodded. “We had not intended to let you blunder through, but it is quite encouraging to hear you say so.”
“It shows great wisdom on your part to know you do not have all the answers,” agreed Fern.
“Thank you,” Jasper smiled, inclining his head to them before waving for Calian to pick up where Titus had left off.
“We can go to the map room,” the immortal continued, setting aside his tea. “Come with me, sers.” They stood and followed the steward out and down one level. Jasper lost track of the turns they made after leaving the landing. At last, they arrived in an oval-shaped room lit by lanterns. Large bookshelves lined the walls, but the massive center table drew his attention. To say it was a “map” was a gross understatement. The entire table was a carved and painted relief of the Tower and its surrounding area. The colors and shapes were so lifelike—far surpassing the history book Jasper had perused the previous night. He could have sworn when he shifted closer that the trees, mountains, and rivers moved to adjust to his perspective.
“That is amazing,” he said quietly. He walked around the table to look at it from different angles, and Titus chuckled.
“If you think that is impressive, watch this.” He gripped a knob on the edge of the map and dragged it along the edge a short distance. The image on the table shrank, displaying a significantly larger area. Jasper could see an even more accurate copy of the entire map from the history book in perfect detail laid out before him. There was The Vill, the four forts at the borders, the smaller villages, and, of course, the Tower itself.
North of the Tower was a thick tree line that gave way to large mountains. Running down through the mountains and feeding into numerous smaller branches were several rivers. To the East was an even more dense forest separating the mainland from an ocean that lapped gently against the shore. A sprinkling of islands twinkled just off the northeastern coast. South of the Tower were plains and smatterings of thin groves before the earth yielded to more mountains, even higher than those in the North with snow capped the peaks and clouds gathered over them. Beyond the southern mountain range was a broad green valley with rolling hills. There were a few smaller mountains. There were more castles, cities, and dense populations scattered across this land. Many tributaries merged to form one large river that wound around most of the comparatively crowded southern land before finally emptying into the Eastern Sea. Jasper’s jaw dropped.
“A magic map?”
“How better to survey the country around us?” The knight grinned. Jasper squatted down to look under the table, searching for any kind of gears or anything to discover its function. There was nothing but the smooth underside of the wood.
“Who made it?” He asked, looking over the edge at his companions.
“Dwarf and elf craftsmen working together,” Calian said. “The dwarves’ ability with woodcarving is unmatched, and the elves’ magic is equally powerful.” That made Jasper pause for a moment.
“Dwarven woodsmen? I thought they were primarily rock dwellers?”
“No, ser,” Titus shook his head. “The forest dwarves have lived in their great tree houses for as long as most of us can remember now. Their ancestors made their homes in the tops of the sky oaks centuries ago.” The knight pointed to the massive forest near the sea.
“That’s an interesting twist,” Jasper muttered in amusement, standing back up and gesturing at the table. “Please continue.” Calian waved at the map with a flourish.
“The orcs to our west and goblins below them along this stretch of river. To the north is the stone elves' kingdom; relatives of our own dear Fernilla. And as Titus said—from here all the way down to here in the northeast is dwarf territory. South of us is the various beastkin tribes, and to our southeast is the Dark Forest.”
“That sounds very ominous,” Jasper said. “Do we know what is in there?” Already, he had begun saying ‘we’, not even a week after arriving there.
“Nearly every thing and person you could think of has come out of that forest,” Titus said with a shrug, causing his mail to jingle. “It makes little sense to us exactly how it happens. We have sent scouting parties, but those that do return are either terrified out of their minds or so exhausted upon their arrival they die shortly afterwards.”
“Okay.” Jasper made a face. “Note to self; ‘Dark Forest bad’.”
“We had come to a similar conclusion,” Calian commented dryly. He pointed to the great cities and towns south of the mountains. “This is the H?lltharian Empire. We are allies, though we and the Empire largely keep to ourselves. Long ago, significant trade was done, though since our financial issues over recent years, the Banking Guild cut all official dealings with the Tower until our outstanding debt is repaid.”
“That’s a problem,” Jasper nodded seriously, “but tell me more about the world first. Money can wait a little longer.”
“Of course,” said Calian. “I know you were also interested in our militia’s capabilities, but I agree with you that the country’s structure and internal relations are more pressing at the moment. It is important to understand how our situation is affected by those around us.” He indicated the fascinating map and adjusted more controls opposite Jasper. Many lines in various shades emerged from the surface with a few quiet clicks, outlining the borders of each territory. Markings denoting known population concentrations, cities, villages, or races made themselves visible.
‘It's just like Rise of Nations or Age of Empires,’ Jasper thought in amazement. The Tower was positioned in the center with a blank flag fluttering in an imaginary breeze. Jasper pointed it out to his companions.
“Why is it white?”
“You have yet to choose a coat of arms,” Calian explained simply.
“So, when I decide on a symbol and colors…?” He raised an eyebrow.
“They will appear here,” Calian gestured to the banner.
“I will have to give that some serious thought.”
“I have tomes in my office for reference or inspiration, if you wish to look them over?”
“Yes please,” Jasper smiled. “I think settling on a symbol to rally behind is vital for our people at such an important time.”
“Well said,” Titus nodded in agreement. “It will also signal our allies—or anyone considering an attack—that there is a new Lord in Cryptonia.”
“Very well. I will fetch the Tower’s record of arms at once.” Calian left and returned a minute or two later when the knight was explaining the layout of the main roads and trade routes.
“—and here is where most trade is done in our lands, The Vill,” Titus adjusted the map to zoom in on the large township a few miles southeast of the castle.
“A simple but effective name,” said Jasper. “I noticed it while reading up on your history last night.”
“Yes,” agreed Titus. “From The Vill, goods can be transported on river boats or barges down to the coast to be shipped around the Middle Mounts.” He pointed to the handful of coastal cities and ports in H?llthar. “There, they can be distributed and sold to everyone in the lower half of the continent.”
“Trade is good,” Jasper said, nodding appreciatively. “I did have a question though, because I could find very little explicit mentions of the ‘Land’ in the books I read. What exactly is it?”
“Ah,” Titus smiled. “‘The Land’ is simply how we refer to the pneuma of Cryptonia, the essence of the country and its spiritual guardian.” Jasper’s eyebrows went up and he leaned forward.
“It’s a being? Something animated? That was definitely not covered in the texts I read.”
“It is not a physical being, no. A ‘god’ would almost be an apt word, but no one worships it as such—not that I am aware of. It is more of a nature spirit that anyone with any wisdom at all would respect.”
“That makes more sense,” Jasper nodded. He thought of the various shows and movies he had seen. There were many similar entities across Earth’s media, why should one not be real? He stifled a snort. Of course, it would choose him out of everyone else on the planet. That sparked a somewhat sickening thought. “Titus, I have another question.”
“Of course.”
“How many tests, how many duels have you seen?”
“To challenge the sitting Lord?” Jasper nodded, and Titus blew out a long sigh, his eyes getting a faraway look in them. “Only two. Yours, of course, and one before. A young woman from your world, I believe.” He winced. “There was not much time to ask. Lerontis was more fit and sober in those days and it…did not end well.” Jasper’s brows knit and he cocked his head.
“Was there nothing you could do?” Titus was quiet for several heartbeats before Jasper became aware of Calian standing in the doorway, holding a thick tome under his arm.
“There are some things in which we cannot interfere,” he said softly, barely above a whisper. If Titus was uneasy, the vampire was far removed. His pale face was a cold mask of pain that spanned a time longer than the young man could comprehend. Jasper got the impression that Calian had been so abused by such pain and loss over the centuries that he bore their weight like a chain around his neck. Jasper realized with a start that despite his chilly demeanor, Calian was a kindred soul, lost to the tides of trauma. He briefly wondered if the immortal would have cared if he had failed the test. The thick book thumping on the table before him snapped Jasper back to the present. Calian tapped the cover and to the young man’s amazement, the volume opened on its own and pages fluttered as it turned to one. On it were several previous rulers’ chosen emblems.
“Oh, good grief,” Jasper said with more amusement at the magic than true surprise. After the last twenty-four hours, he thought there was very little that could dazzle him. He was silently glad of the distraction from the morbid past. Titus snorted but stifled it with a cough. Calian all but ignored his human counterpart and pointed to several of the artfully painted crests.
“As you can see, the Tower features prominently in many of the old emblems, though not all.”
“Yes, I definitely think we will keep that. Hard to mistake the Tower for anything but what it is.” Jasper contemplated the images before him and flipped forwards and back for some time before asking Calian for a scrap of paper to write on. He brought several loose sheafs and three charcoal pencils, and the young lord quickly got to work. In a few minutes he had sketched the Tower, a rising sun, and several large pine trees near the structure. “What do you think?”
“I would not call it a great work of art,” Calian said, rubbing his chin. “But I believe it is exactly the kind of symbol you had in mind.”
“I’ve never been much of an artist,” Jasper chuckled, shrugging. “But to illustrate the idea…”
“Simple and elegant in its own way,” agreed Titus. “That tends to mean more to common folk than big fancy art. Though a motto could not hurt either.”
“Hmm, I hadn’t really thought of that,” Jasper nodded. He really liked Titus’ idea of keeping it short and sweet. He snorted at the irony when it finally came to him. “I have it.” He quickly scrawled four words below the symbol.
“‘To protect and serve’,” Calian read aloud. “A bit on the nose.”
“No, this is a good choice,” disagreed Titus. “Think about it; what do people want more than anything else? To sleep safely in their beds and not fret about the things that go thump in the night.” He tapped the sketch with one thick finger. “That is our duty, is it not?”
“Oh, I do not dispute that, Titus, I was merely pointing it out.”
“What now?” Jasper asked, looking down at the parchment. “I mean, I’ve decided. How much will it cost us to get this stitched onto every—” Calian interrupted with a feigned cough, pointing at the Tower’s map marker. The white flag had changed, becoming the exact image he had pictured in his mind. Titus’ tunic transformed as well. The dark gray lightened to a cream and a heater shield, shaped like an upside-down clothes iron, bloomed on his chest. On the shield was the Tower, trees, and sun as Jasper had drawn it, but stitched in fine embroidery. A scroll unrolled beneath the shield and the chosen words flashed in gold thread. Jasper barked a laugh and clapped his hands in excitement. Titus grinned broadly, and even Calian seemed pleased.
“Every time I think that I can’t be more impressed, something like this happens,” Jasper stood and slapped the knight on the shoulder.
“If you are feeling up to it, ser,” Calian said, “I would like to begin a more comprehensive tour of the Keep.”
“I would certainly like to. I want to learn as much as I can about this place—and the people here.”
“Ser, you were not a little hurt,” Titus said with a look of concern. “No one could hold it against you for resting a day or two more.”
“With Fern’s healing and the fine food I’ve had, I feel fit—not enough to fight,” he laughed, “but enough for a long walk around the grounds.”
“Very well.” Titus ducked his head respectfully. “I will join you both.”
“Great.” Jasper turned back to Calian. “Where do we start?”
