Kared's Children - Chapter 8

Nartho tilted his head. "We’d work well together."

"You do already," Shaerden said.

"You would be Commander of the King’s Guard," Dox said. "I would oversee the Personal Guard."

"You’ll be a great team," Shaerden said.

Nartho looked from Dox to Shaerden, then back again. "All right. I accept."

Dox straightened and clapped him on the back. "Excellent! Now come and meet your charges."

. . .

Raven and Benjamin had finished on the stairs when Morgan arrived with a pack. Raven let him in and stood by bemusedly while the Councilman promptly emptied it on the floor. Parchment, shoe leather, candles, chalks of differing colors, twine, dried beef, and other items spilled across the floor; Morgan bent and searched. At last he selected a roll of bandages and left them beside his feet while he stuffed everything else back into the pack.

Raven had settled on the stairs beside Benjamin, watching him. "Do you intend to use those as armor? They won’t afford much protection."

Morgan unbuttoned a pocket of the pack carefully. "Oh no. I’ve found a leather jerkin. I’ll wear it."

"Let us hope you will not need it," Benjamin said.

Morgan nodded solemnly while he tucked the bandages into the pocket.

"A jerkin’s not very heavy armor." Raven said. "You might do better to use the bandages."

"It’ll remind me I’m not a fighter," Morgan said.

"Exactly what armor’s for," Raven said.

"I’ve read," Morgan said. "Armor Selection and Classification, volumes one through nine." His eyes looked toward the ceiling. "‘The wisest Commander selects the armor that will serve two purposes: to protect his men and to remind them they are mortal.’"

Raven grinned. "You’ve read well."

Morgan rose. "An historian’s job."

"You must have a good memory."

"Ill fregem nor butom," Benjamin said.

"Slimpsen re borleder," Morgan responded.

Raven looked from one to the other. "What?"

"You speak languages, too," Benjamin said.

"Cregish, Tor, Derlen, and Prikis," Morgan said. "And bits of others."

"What are those?" Raven asked.

"Cregish is what you speak," Benjamin said. "It’s what I’m speaking now."

Raven made a face. "That one I know."

"The others are spoken by others," Morgan said. "Though some say they come from a common root. Ours, for example, is descended from the people who first settled the peninsula. Six hundred years ago. Or seven."

"Remarkable how little it has changed," Benjamin said.

"I might believe it’s true," Morgan said. "There are certain similarities between the others. Which might explain why I was able to pick them up so easily."

"But where did you study them?"

"Books, mostly." Morgan shrugged. "My pronunciation may not be so good."

"Bor dundum ni burlen caini," Benjamin said.

"Cut that out!" Raven said.

"I told him he speaks Caini accurately."

"What’s Caini?"

"The language of the Alaran," Morgan said.

Raven pulled himself upright via the stair railing. "You’re impressive," he said to Morgan. He looked at Benjamin. "You both are."

Morgan moved the pack into the adjoining study. "Thank you."

"We have an impressive collection of knowledge going with us on this journey," Benjamin said.

"I hope so," Raven said.