By Sealie

Genfic
Rating: kid safe
Spoilers: none ‘cos it’s part of the Chronicles of Acharn Universe (AU fantasy).
Beta: appallingly, I can’t remember. I don’t think that I could find one.
Indulgent, kid ficcy stuff.

 

 

 

Sect of the Sentinel.

By Sealie

 

“You’re going to be twenty one, aren’t you, Jim?” Prince Blair clambered onto the stable stall wall and perched.

“Yes.” Laird Jamie continued to groom his warhorse, Pern, only sparing a fragment of his attention on the tiny prince. “Why the interest?”

“‘Cause it’s special, isn’t it?” Blair said guilelessly, his big blue eyes wide.

Jamie focused on Pern and concentrated on grooming his horse to shiny perfection. “Not really, the Heir to the Northern Mountains is conducted into the Sect of the Sentinel on their twenty first birthday,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I thought that you were already a sentinel?” Blair asked, confused. His round face scrunched up and his thoughts scrolled across his face for all to read. The laird had saved the prince when the royal family had been threatened by the Goblin Queen years earlier. In response to that dire threat menacing the Land of Acharn, Jamie had came into his sentinel gifts many years before his grandfather should have bequeathed them to him.

“See,” Jamie easily followed Blair’s thoughts, “it isn’t any different to any other birthday. I’m already a sentinel.”

“Humph,” Blair grumbled, and Jamie finally looked at him. The prince was all prepared to help him in the stables; he wore his oldest, most threadbare clothes. He held a curry brush in his hands and twisted it miserably. 

“What?” Jamie set Pern’s comb aside and moseyed over to lean next to Blair’s perch.

“If I hadn’t got into trouble, this would have been special for you, wouldn’t it,” he said miserably.

“It wasn’t you. It was the Goblin Queen,” Jamie countered immediately.

“So,” Blair began with all the guile that a nearly nine year old could possess. “The Goblin Queen made your birthday not special? Oh dear, that’s not fair.”

Laird Jamie raised a chastising eyebrow. Blair wriggled caught halfway between laughing and blushing.

“Who told you to say that?” Jamie glared at him piercingly. 

Blair batted his eyelashes. “It’s our cunning plan,” he declaimed.

Rafe?” Jamie hazarded, the Royal Assassin of Acharn had a sick sense of humour.

“Nope,” Blair said gleefully. “Yep. But Mama also said that it’s your special day since you become a proper sentinel. It’s like a party in your honour. Even more so ‘cause you’ve been a sentinel for awhile. But Uncle Simon sez that you are ‘introverted’ so we have to convince you that you are special. And your grandfather said that you’d say you like it quiet, but you really wouldn’t mind if we did it properly for you. And Rafe says ‘any excuse for a party’ and Henri smacked him over the top of the head when he said that. And your grandfather said we had to convince you. And I might be the ‘one to do it’ if I made you feel guilty.”

The prince had an uncanny ability to remember everything he heard, and his tendency to repeat it in his own personal way, could be very disconcerting. 

“Are we having a party now?” Blair asked innocently. “I like parties. And I don’t think it’s fair you don’t just because of the Goblin Queen.”

“You’re an evil little brat, do you know that?” Jamie said affectionately.

Blair smiled, completely unaffected by the words, reading the true emotions. “What do you want as a birthday present?”

With a yell, Jamie launched himself at the prince, bowling him into a pile of straw. Flailing arms and legs, they wrestled in the stall.  Jamie’s tickled the prince.  Screaming delightedly, Blair wriggled completely defenceless. Jamie caught the squirming Blair, restraining him on the floor and gently sat astride his chest. He caught Blair’s wrists and pinned them above his head.

“One.”

Nonononononononono,” Blair begged, laughing hysterically.

“Two.”

Pleasepleaseplease.”

“Three!”

Jamie let go of Blair’s wrists and ran his sensitive fingers up his ribcage. Blair’s breath came in frantic little ‘hees’ as he wriggled. The Prince flailed ineffectively laughing too hard and too clumsy to tickle back.

“Stop it!”

Jamie paused letting Blair get his breath before launching another tickle-attack. But sensing his charge had had enough; Jamie rolled to the side bringing Blair up to sit on his chest.

Blair flopped and wheezed against him.

Jamie picked straw from Blair’s tumbled curls as he waited patiently for the prince to get his breath back.

“You really want to have a party, Blair?” he asked softly.

“Yep. I fink we should.”

“We?” Jamie mused. The ceremony inducted the heir to the Sentinel in the mystery. On his twenty-first birthday the seed of his gifts was supposed to be allowed to blossom. But he wasn’t supposed to wield the gifts until the true Sentinel of Acharn passed on. However, Acharn now had two sentinels: his grandfather, Lord Ellison, Ellis John Forest, Head of the d’Ellison Clan and Lord James, heir to the Northern Mountains, Sgurr na Bannachdich, Sgurr a’Ghreadaidh and Sgurr Deary. Still his Grandfather insisted that he be inducted in the Sect. Jamie didn’t see the point; he had his guide and he had control. What would the ceremony achieve?

Blair sat up, sitting comfortably on Jamie’s stomach. The laird hoisted himself on his elbows; it was a good thing that Blair seemed to taking after the smaller members of the family.  In fact Blair’s lack of statue was the subject of much discussion. It had been postulated that the elfish strand in the House of Sandburg-Bran was breeding true in the young prince.  In the late night hours of the longest council meetings the topic had meandered on the prince’s paternity. Her Royal Majesty Queen refused to be drawn.

“What are you thinking about, runt?”

“A party. I like parties. We can find out more about sentinels. Do guides have special parties when they get to be twenty one? That’s years to go?”

“Just a few. I don’t know if guides have parties. Maybe your mother will know. You should though…”

P’rhaps it’s a secret,” Blair muttered, perturbed. “If a party’s bad, why do I have to have one when you don’t?”

Argggh!” Jamie grabbed Blair and gave him a little shake. “You win. We’ll have a proper celebration and the ceremony.”

“Presents,” Blair exulted, his mood changing mercurially. He gave a little bounce. “What do you want? A sword? I know can we go out the Citadel? Can we go out and visit Bruncladhic? Can we go to your island home, Eilean Ellis? I want to see a proper mountain.  Can I ride with you on Pern?”

Blair was brilliant with anticipation, his chestnut curls glowing with an amber light.

“The ceremony has to be carried out on Clan ground so that means Eilean Ellis. But a visit isn’t a present.”

“Isn’t it?” Blair’s face scrunched up. “Oh, I’ll think of a good present for you. A proper present.”

“A hug will do,” Jamie said sagely.

“A hug?” Blair glowed. “I can do that now.” He flung his arms around Jamie’s neck. The laird folded him in. He owed his fealty to the Queen but Blair had claimed his soul. The prince nestled in contentedly, secure at his young age, to display such affection.

Jamie let Blair sit for a moment, then gave him a gentle poke in the ribs.

“Don’t tickle, I gotta pee.”

“Pee?” Jamie lifted Blair onto his feet. “Go, run, you’re not peeing on me.”

Sniggering, Blair darted out of reach, and then joggled from side to side, evidently containing himself.

“Go,” Jamie directed, “before you have an accident. And cadge me a flagon of cider from the kitchens.”

“Yes, Jim.” Blair ran.

 

                      ~*~

 

Blair trotted across the outer ward to the stables. The cobblestones made his progress unstable, his tongue poked between his teeth as he held Jim’s cider, securely.

“Boy!”

Blair continued on his mission to give Jim his cider. Perhaps after they had finished in the stables, the laird would take him out of the castle to ride around the Citadel. Blair liked riding on Pern, sitting in front of Jamie. Occasionally, Jamie let him hold the reins, even though Blair knew that Pern knew more about riding then he did. The sun was shining and it was too nice to stay in and muck out stables. They could head out the back gate and onto the southern facing moors of their mountain, Goodrich. If they asked very nicely, the cook would give them a picnic to take on their ride.

“Boy!”

Jamie promised that he could have his own pony when he grew another thumb width higher. Blair wanted a shaggy highland pony.

“Boy!”

Blair stopped with a heavy sigh. Some cider slopped over his hands and he had tried so hard to carry it without spilling. Blair glowered up at two – judging by their thoroughbred mounts – lords. The man on the shiny black wore the rich jewel colours that Jamie favoured. The lord was all prickly, his aura was spiky and sharp. Blair squinted trying to see closely. The colours were muted, but the feelings were horribly thorny.

“Stable boy, take these horse to the stable, they need a cool down, a thorough groom…”

“I’m not the stable boy,” Blair said simply and stepped back. He didn’t like the man, he made him feel … Blair couldn’t put it into words. He would have to think about it and maybe ask Jamie.

“Brat, our mounts have been ridden hard; you will give them good hot mash and some water.” The lord dismounted sweeping his cloak aside in a deliberate motion. His spurs hitting the cobbles sent sparks into the air. They matched his inner light.

“Lind will know what to do if they’re tired. He’s the stable master. ” Blair turned away.

A heavy hand caught his shoulder and spun him around. Jamie’s cider fell, splattering. Blair huffed angrily as he watched the golden liquid seep between the cobbles.

“You do it, boy; we’ve had a long ride and I have to report to my grandfather, immediately.” The man shook him.

The last person to lay a hand in anger on the Royal Prince had been the Goblin Queen. Blair sank his teeth into the shiny lord’s wrist.

“Little bastard.” The lord wrenched his hand free and Blair fell back onto the cobbles.

“Someone should teach you a lesson.” The man stood over him, his hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword.

Blair’s temper went incandescent. Between one heartbeat and the next the cider beneath him boiled. A watery figure was brought forth. Tall, sinuous, it was as clear as amber crystal. It grinned frenziedly. At the prince’s bidding the water elemental rose holding him and then gently set him on his feet.

The lord’s spiky aura flattened with shock, disappearing as if a smothered candle.

“Show him what it’s like.” Blair pointed straight at the chevalier.

The elemental rushed forward bowling the lord over. The man fell hard on the cobbles and the being flowed over him, ruining his prissy clothes. The fey elemental giggled merrily and coated the lord from head to toe.

“Demon child!” The lord’s older companion jumped down from his horse, his sword drawn. Elementals didn’t like iron forged broadswords; it would leave. Blair knew better than stay near someone with a sword when he was alone.

“Jim!” Blair shrieked and ran. He slipped and slid over the uneven paving stones.

The laird was running across the outer ward to intercept them. He was weaving magick as he ran and golden lights coalesced at the pulse points at his head, throat and wrists.

“Down!” Laird Jamie ordered, hands outstretched. Blair ducked under the visible arc of magick. The spell enfolded the struggling lord in a sheaf of dazzling radiance. A happy squeal echoed through the outer ward as the merry elemental rushed back to the otherside.

“He hit me, Jamie.” Blair rushed toward Jamie and the laird swung him up onto his hip. Blair latched onto his protector.

“Demon!” The man came to a screeching halt, brandishing his sword.

Beaumaris?” Jamie asked incredulously.

“Laird Jamie?” Beaumaris countered.

“He hit me, Jim. He hit me, Jim. He hit me and he pushed me on the ground.”

The lord coughed and struggled into a sitting position; he looked like a drowned cat. His impeccable clothes were ruined. The fine silk tabard was stinking with cider.

“Stephen?” Jamie demanded.

“He hit me, Jim. He hit me, Jim.”

Sshhh. Are you hurt?” Jamie’s nostrils flared, sniffing out blood, and he gently patted Blair’s arms and chest.

Blair pouted sullenly and then shook his head.

“Jamie, that little brat just tried to kill me with cider…” Stephen began. “Cider?”

“You really hit Prince Blair?” Jamie demanded drowning out his words.

“Prince Blair?” Stephen went from being red with anger to a shocky, pasty white.

Safe and secure in Jamie’s grasp, Blair stuck out his tongue. “He pushed me over, Jim.”

“I didn’t realise that he was the prince.”

“That’s supposed to make a difference? He’s eight years old, For Acharn’s Sake,” Jamie snapped.

“Almost nine!” Blair inserted indignantly.

“Chief,” Jamie said quellingly.

Blair lapsed into silence, for the moment.

“We’ve been riding for days,” Stephen began. “We were tired, I thought he was the stable boy and he refused to help. He was a …,” the younger laird left the word unspoken, “very unhelpful.”

“That’s no reason to hit,” Blair yelled.

“You’re right; I apologise, Prince Blair.” The man bowed precisely.

Blair slumped against Jamie, he’d decided that he didn’t like this Lord Stephen. He didn’t want his apology.

“Blair,” Jamie said seriously. “Did you call up an elemental on purpose?”

Blair dropped his head on Jamie’s shoulder. “Wasn’t a nasty – it was clever and bubbly. It only wanted to play tricks.” He glanced sideways at Lord Stephen. “Serves him right.”

“We’ve talked about this, Blair. You’re not supposed to command elementals.”

“Didn’t really. I was ‘nnoyed. It came but it wasn’t bad.” Blair muttered. “It just got him sticky and wet.”

Jamie exhaled noisily. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson, Stephen. Next time you pick on a page they might just turn round and bite your head off. And--” he finished pithily, “--your behaviour was not becoming of an Ellison. I will discuss this matter with Grandfather and find you later.”

Blair sniggered. When Jamie used that tone of voice you were in trouble.

“And you, Prince Blair, we will not be going out riding today. When you have a problem, you come to me. That even includes my brother.”

“Brother?” Blair sat ramrod straight in Jamie’s arms. “Brother? He’s your brother?” he said aghast.

Stephen’s aura flared a sickly olive and the spiky edges made Blair shudder to his toes. Was this Stephen like Lord William Ellison, Jamie’s father? Was he inhabited by evil?

“Yes, he’s my little brother,” Jamie explained.

“No,” Blair said his voice ripe with disbelief. “You’re mine; not his. Mine.” He glowered at all and sundry, daring them to come closer.

“Blair,” Jamie said evenly, and joggled him. “Stephen’s my brother of my body and you’re the brother of my soul. There’s room enough in my heart for both of you.”

Blair fixed his piercing sapphire gaze on Stephen, and with every iota of little being he cried war.

Stephen looked away first. “I should go get changed; grandfather is expecting me.”

“Stephen,” Jamie said before he could move.

“Yes?” he said suspiciously.

“It’s good to see you.”

“Oh, it’s good to see you, too,” he said ungraciously. Lips pursed, he nodded curtly at the prince. “Beaumaris come with me.”

“Yes, Lord Stephen.” The ghillie bowed to Jamie and the prince and took his leave.

“Blair?” Jamie craned his head to look in the prince’s eyes.

Blair tucked his head against Jamie’s neck refusing to look at the Sentinel. “I’m all sticky, he pushed me in the cider. He made me drop your cider.”

“That’s okay, Chief. We’ll get some more. Come on let’s get you clean. Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“Yes,” Blair said sullenly. “Bad Stephen.”

 

                      ~*~

 

The hubbub of the diners at the grand table made Laird Jamie’s ears ache. The Highborn were in residence for the summer solstice council. There were as many conversations ringing around the table as there were people. Ancient Lord Malú on his left side was discussing the grain harvest and Countess Beth was chatting with Mistress Doyle on the riveting subject of embroidery on the other side. Jamie let his hearing drift over the table. Blair was at the head of the table with his mother, Queen Naomi. The prince was half on his mother’s lap and half on his own chair. He was sipping on the Queen’s goblet of wine while she was distracted talking to the Wizard Sultan, Simon. Blair’s cheeky face screwed up in disgust and spat the wine back into the goblet.

Jamie signalled a server to take the goblet and set a fresh one in its place.  Blair pounced on his own goblet of goat’s milk. The prince glugged mouthfuls washing away the foul taste of the wine; evidently he had learnt his lesson. Bored again, Blair looked around. Queen Naomi gathered him against her side, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

The child was displaying a streak of jealousy as wide as the River of Daen. Stephen could be a git and he was a bit over-proud. He had a lot of lessons to learn. But most of the time he was simply a much younger, aggravating brother. A younger brother who was scowling at him from across the table. Jamie hadn’t seen his brother since their father’s state funeral. William Ellison had been buried with due ceremony as he had redeemed his soul and saved the prince. Stephen didn’t know the true story. Jamie could number the people who knew what had really happened on one hand. The young sentinel couldn’t begin to wonder what he had done to upset his little brother.

Could it be because he had a guide in the Royal Prince? Could it be that he had become a sentinel without even passing the trials? Since he was confirmed as the next sentinel his younger brother would never hold the gifts.

It wasn’t Jamie’s fault that he had been born first. But he didn’t regret his gifts or his guide, who at this moment was sitting on his mama’s knee face smeared with honey.

Blair certainly was a great responsibility

Icy footsteps raced up his backbone; Stephen was glowering at him. Jealousy on both sides assailed him. The scary fact was that choosing between the two would be nigh on impossible.

Blair’s chiming laugh resounded through the hall. “Yes, mama, Jamie wants a proper party. Don’t you, Jim?” He smiled luminously at his fellow diners.

Jamie blushed as all heads turned to regard him. “Yes,” he said tersely. “I’ll undertake the ceremony.”

His grandfather smiled proudly and his brother scowled.

Why was this his life?

“Party!” Blair cheered.

 

                      ~*~

 

Close to midnight, Jamie slipped into Blair bedchamber. Moonlight limned the room in gentle light, but it was more than enough for a sentinel. The room was elegant; no one on first sight would have would have said that it belonged to a small boy. Jamie thought it a pity, but at least Blair had learned to spread out his toys over the nursery. His last nanny had ruled his life with a rod of iron and Blair still obeyed those rules despite the fact that the nanny was long since buried.  A four poster bed dominated the room. Royal purple curtains draped each of the corners. A mess of pillows and blankets made a warm nest. The child was hunched in a ball in the centre of his four poster bed. Piled high with quilts he was almost indistinguishable. Jamie didn’t know how he could breathe.  Practised, he reached under the blankets to tug the sleeping child up to rest on the pillow. His fingers met short, tufty fur. He wrenched back the blankets to reveal a mess of cuddly toys dominated by Blair’s favourite toy wolf. Beady glass eyes winked at him. There was no boy curled up in the centre of the bed.

For a heartbeat fear rocked him, then he realised that he was probably exploring the castle’s secret passages.

‘He’s going to be cleaning out the stables until the end of time.’

“Lord James?”

Jamie spun on his heel. A swirl of blue velvet skirts heralded the entrance of the Countess Elizabeth, Prince Blair’s latest nanny. She ducked her head acknowledging the prince’s sentinel.

“Prince Blair is with his mother, the queen,” she announced, before Jamie could ask.

“What?” Jamie looked back to the bed.

“Her Majesty came in to kiss Prince Blair goodnight, but he was awake and playing with his toy soldiers. She took him to her rooms for warm milk and honey. He was quite excited at the prospect; I doubt that he will be asleep very soon.” 

Jamie simply shrugged, getting Blair to go to bed could be a time consuming affair. Countess Beth smiled, as she followed his thoughts.

“Ah, well, I’m to bed, then.”

“Good night, Lord James.”

“Sleep well, milady.”

The guttering torchlight in the stone dressed corridor sent ghostly shadows dancing along the walls. By force of habit, Jamie monitored the world around him as he skirted the wall. The scent of sage drifted before him. The young sentinel knew its source.

The queen was ahead and she was – Jamie determined with a simple sniff – without bodyguards. The sentinel stepped into the centre of the corridor. The queen drifted, in her own inimitable way, down the corridor. She was singing lightly under her breath to her son. Blair was draped against her shoulder, limp in sleep.

“Oh, Jamie,” she whispered, “the chancellor needed me to speak to the diplomat from Lys. I thought I’d put Blair to bed rather than let him sleep in my room. I’d likely disturb him when I finally get to bed.”

“Shall I take him, ma’am?”

The Queen wrinkled her nose at her son and kissed the child’s downy cheek. “Yes.”

Carefully she passed Blair into Jamie’s arms. The child was warm, vulnerable and defenceless. And despite a mischievous streak as wide as the mountain river of Daen he was positively cherubic when asleep. Her Majesty leaned over and bestowed a soft kiss on her son’s brow.

“Isn’t he gorgeous.

Jim declined to comment.

“Good night, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, Jamie.” Queen Naomi patted his cheek. “You’re such a serious boy, I’m glad you have Blair as a guide.”

“Ma’am?”

“Nothing, I will see you both at breakfast. I think you should join us at the head of the table. It will keep Blair in his chair, rather than running back and forwards.” With that final comment she sauntered back down towards the central chambers, leaving a confused and dumbfounded sentinel standing in the centre of the corridor.

 

                      ~*~

 

Blair was one step away from bursting and scattering pieces of exuberant prince over the courtyard. He ran back and forth between the royal carriage and the royal legion’s warhorses. Jamie winced as a particularly high squeal reverberated around the Citadel’s spiral towers. He had decided to allow the prince to run wild for just a little while to let him bleed off his excess liveliness. Rafe, the Royal Assassin, swooped down and snatched Blair up to swing him around in a circle. The young sentinel watched with a hawk-like eye. Pern, his warhorse, craned his neck and wickered, ruffling Jamie’s golden hair. Jamie bestowed an absent pat on his horse’s velvet nose. Bestowing one final swing, Rafe set Blair on his feet. He had barely touched the ground, and he was off running.

“Jamie. Jamie. Jamie, can I go down the spiral tower? Can I?” Blair screeched to a halt.

“No, you’ll be in the carriage.”

Blair stiffened and vented, “No, I want out. I want to touch.”

Jamie’s brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of that fervent demand. “Touch what?”

“Outside. Outside the Citadel, outside the castle. The ground on the bottom of the mountain.”

“Why?” Jamie asked perplexed.

That threw the young prince. He stopped, vibrating with tension as he pondered. He made quite the figure decked in his royal blue tunic and hose, with the lace collar and cuffs, hands clasped between his back and his head bowed. It was his thinking position.

“I dunno… don’t know,” he admitted. He cocked his head in a listening position and Jamie could see the glimmer of air elementals whipping around his chestnut curls. “I can feel it in the air, but I don’t know what it is. It’s going to be good, though.”

Jamie flashed a curious look at Her Majesty, who was overseeing the preparations from the conservatory. 

The Queen shrugged, and called out. “Blair’s been out of the Citadel. As a small baby, I took him to the Forest of Acharn. Nothing strange happened. I introduced him to the elements.”

Blair was suddenly at his hip, staring up at him his eyes filled with wise secrets. “Can we go now? Down the spiral? Not down the tunnel. Please.”

The Royal Legion was ready and waiting for instruction. The men stood beside their mounts resplendent in their black and gold livery. An occasional hoof pawed the ground but for the most part they were silent, well trained, so well trained that a child could run beneath their legs without danger.

Laird Jamie clicked his fingers directing the first troop to hand their reins to their comrades. The stage, five warriors, marched towards him.  The leader, a young highlander Sean, of the House of Fraser, grinned at him gamely through a spray of ginger freckles.

“Yes, Laird Jamie?”

“We will go down through the portcullis and the spiral tower and wait for the rest of the party to join us.”

“Yes!” Blair bounced and thrust his fists in the air. Before he could run off, Jamie grabbed his collar.

“Together.” He controlled the squirming child with ease.

“No.” Blair stamped his heel on the top of Jamie’s foot. “No manhandling.”

Jamie released him instantly. He dropped to his knees to look at the prince straight in his eyes. “Together,” he repeated. “We go together.”

Blair glowered at him mulishly.

“You know that you can’t just run off. You know that there are rules.”

“Always talking, Always doing the right thing. Always good,” Blair shrieked. “Now, touch.”

The air elementals that always circled the prince wherever he went were dancing in anticipation. One in particular was playing with his curls, tweaking them. Jamie extended his hypersenses, expanding his sixth sense to see the otherworld sharing their land. He saw the elements of air easily because of the bond he shared with his prince. Seeing the other elementals took effort.

“Now?” Blair asked, breaking his concentration.

Jamie grimaced and abruptly forced it into a smile. Blair was a canny little beast, he seemed to pick up on the mores of the people around him with gleeful abandon. But for once he was concerned with his own little world.

Blair wrapped his fingers in the fabric of Jamie’s tunic and tugged. “Come on. Please”

Jamie growled audibly. Swooped down and plucked Blair up to swing over his shoulder. “You win, Chief.”

Blair mock screamed and wriggled, forcing Jamie to reach up and grab the prince around the waist. “I’ll toss you off the parapet.” The threat had no effect; Blair knew him too well.

“Down on the ground.” Blair demanded.

“Ha, I’ll carry you down and put you straight in the coach.”

Noooo, that’s not fair.”

Laughing Jamie trooped across the drawbridge his cadre of chosen guards in tow. He acknowledged Sean’s grin with an answering smile. Blair was very popular with the Royal Legions, few could resist his ebullience. The guards at the end of the drawbridge saluted, and moved away from the entrance to the spiral tower which was one of the few egresses from the Citadel. Carved from the face of the mountain Goodrich during the last ice age, stone masons had hewn a spiral staircase in the centre of the tower during the time of Prince Blair’s great-great-great-great- great-great grandfather.

Blair had the presence of mind to freeze as Jamie turned the first step. Flight after flight after flight, Jamie picked his way carefully down the staircase. By the time they reached the bottom, common sense had been overtaken and Blair was quivering in anticipation again.

Jamie stepped out of the portcullis at the base of the tower into brilliant sunlight.

“Down, down, down,” Blair chimed.

Jamie twisted him around nimbly. Hands tucked under the prince’s armpits he held him so they were eye to eye.

“You be good; no running off.”

“No running,” Blair affirmed. “I won’t.”

Jamie set the prince on his feet with a thump. Blair’s mouth opened in a soundless exclamation of delight. He dropped into a crouch and planted his hands face down on the soil.

“Earth!” he crowed.

The soil beneath their feet rippled. Jim saw a long gangly arm rise and skim the surface, as if a figure fathoms deep in the earth, swam through soil as if water. The earth around Blair’s hands teamed with fat, fecund figures as short as Blair’s fingers. A hummock rose at their side. Soil moved, opening a rent in which an amazingly deep blue eye gleamed. She winked and then the hummock dropped away leaving flat soil in her wake.

The tiny figures paying homage to Blair swan dived back into the soil. Green shoots peaked through the newly tilled soil. Shoots budded into leaves. At the tops of the stalks flowers bloomed.
Heh heh,” Blair chortled, in an unconscious imitation of his Blessed Protector. He dug his fingers in the brown soil and gently freed a single daisy.

“What’s that for?” Jamie concentrated on the prosaic.

“For mama, the Lady said.”

“You’re going to need a pot,” Jamie could only mutter amazed.

 

End Chapter I

                      ~*~

Sect of the Sentinel Chapter II

 

If there was anyone not made for travelling in a carriage – even a royal carriage– it was Prince Blair Nechtan Finn of the House of Sandburg-Bran. He drove his nurse Countess Beth to distraction as he bounced from window to window, port and starboard, so he would miss nothing.

“Your Highness, you’ll make me sick.”

Blair paid her little heed as he pointed out everything and asked questions in a piping voice.

The heather covered rolling plain on either side of the King’s Road was stark and seemingly without boundary. But over each rise there was a new cairn, small yellow flower or bubbling brook to be commented upon.

Blair leaned deeply out of the carriage and Countess Beth caught the back of his hose for the hundredth time and hauled him back.

“I can still see Goodrich!” Blair proclaimed.

The mountain, which housed the Royal Castle and the Citadel on the western slope, stood proud of the rolling moors.

“I can’t see the forest anymore, there must be a rise.” Blair turned and looked along the King’s Road. “I can still see the Gateway Mountains.”

Jamie kneed his war horse forward. “Get back in the coach, Blair.”

“Why?”

“Because hanging out of that window isn’t safe.”

“Can I ride with you then?”

“No.”

“Can I ride on the top of the carriage like Fraser?” Blair leaned out further, oblivious to the mashing wheels and pointed at the red-headed highlander perched on the back of the carriage resplendent in the Royal black and gold.

“No.”

“You never let me do anything,” Blair protested.

“I’m letting you ride in your mother’s coach,” Jamie retorted.

Blair’s brow furrowed as he digested that statement. “But…” he began.

“Get back in and sit down before I join you in there,” Jamie said sharply.

“Will you?” Blair beamed.

Jamie shook his head, foiled. “Not at the moment, Chief. Though the land stretches as far as the eye can see, it hides furrows and dips to harbour the unseelie.”

“Who?”

Pern pranced to the side at his words, and Jamie spent an uncommon moment bringing him to stride.

“Bad elves.”

Dhu sidhe?” Blair’s blue gaze turned inwards. His finger pointed out unerringly towards a tussock of tall spindly grass. “There’s a Bhog Garalapin in the marshes over there.”

“What?” Jamie rose up on his stirrups looking for the peat and moss covered bog monster.

A sudden hoot rolled across the open landscape, and only a sentinel could see a beastie dive into a noisome, black midden with barely a ripple.

“How did you know that that was there?”

“Mama said,” Blair said absently and squinted at the rolling wet hillocks.

As far as Jamie was aware, they had left Her Majesty at Goodrich after a tearful goodbye and pointed instruction on the care and attention of daisy husbandry.

“Anything else?” Jamie ventured.

“Lots of things.” Blair reached for the carriage door handle.

“Stay in there.”

Tis alive.” Blair waved his arm. “It’s all alive. Lots of things; little and big.”

“Anything with big teeth and a taste for flesh?” Sean Fraser asked tightly.

Blair shot a shocked glance at his guardian. “Jim?”

“Sean’s just teasing you.” Laird Jamie quelled the younger man’s scaremongering with an icy glare.

Blair had lapsed into silence, knuckles white as he gripped the top of the carriage door. His head cocked to the side and he appeared to listen.

Your Highness?” Countess Beth laid a narrow hand on his shoulder.

The sapphire eyes that looked at Jamie were filled with knowledge, but tinged with a degree of vexation. Blair glowered.

Jamie reached down and plucked him from the coach, setting him easily astride Pern’s back. Blair leaned into him, twisting to the side.

“It’s big,” he began. “Tiny lives. Food for the big lives and in turn they’re food, but the other little lives eat the big lives. Even the buzzin’ flies are important.” Blair shrugged. “Lots of teeth.”

 

                      ~*~

 

Even Blair’s enthusiasm flagged with the setting sun. He drooped against his blessed protector, turning his face into the twist of tartan over the laird’s chest.  Easily Jamie swung the small child’s legs over his worn breech covered thigh.

Fraser – his face a white beacon in the drizzling gloom – grinned down at them from the roof of the coach.

“He sleeps?”

“Aye,” Jamie said, a fond grin turning his lips.

“We’re coming to the Hangman’s fork; do we go to Eilean Ellis by the Dragon’s Passage or the sea route?”

The decision had been made days past. Both route had their advantages and disadvantages, but the former allowed the laird to check the lay of the Land and introduce its heir to both the people and the earth.

“We go via the Dragon’s Pass,” Jamie confirmed.

Fraser grinned, “So then we’ll be stayin’ with the Taliskers at Aberfen?”

“Oh, aye?” Jamie asked drolly. “You’ve an eye on the Talisker’s daughter?”

Fraser grinned openly. “Oh, she’s a bonny lassie, tall as the sidhe and her russet brown hair falls in those glorious locks.”

“You should have been a bard.”

Fraser chuckled. “I may set my eyes on the Lady Carolyn but I don’t think I can scale her heights.”

“Sean Fraser,” a ringing voice came from within the Royal Carriage. “I’ll thank you not to talk of a lady in that manner.”

A blush to match his hair blossomed over Fraser’s cheeks. “I beg your pardon, me lady.” The young highlander ducked back on his perch and resumed his watch.

Smiling softly, Jamie cast his senses ahead. He could see the crossroad that spoke of choice. The Highlands beckoned ahead with their stark, austere grandeur. At this time of year it would be a pleasant trip, no doubt interrupted with the occasional squall of rain. But this was to be expected – it was the Highlands.  

Rafe’s home – Jamie cast a glance at the dapper assassin riding at the back of the train – lay in the mist wreathed Western Isles. Jamie’s own home was to the north east, tucked on the coast of the sea loch of à Bheallaich Donne protected by the mountain range of Sgurr na Bannachdich, Sgurr a’Ghreadaidh and Sgurr Deary. His heart called to the Highlands. But first things first; they would overnight at Aberfen dining with the Taliskers.

 

                      ~*~

 

“They’re here, Mama. They’re here, Mama.” A light shone welcoming from an open doorway as the train marched sedately through the double walled gates into the courtyard of Aberfen. The seat of the Taliskers was tucked in the first solid lee of the edge of a fast flowing river that fed into the Goodrich Fens. Dampness hung in the air and even the mansion, which stood several storeys high to protect against flooding, couldn’t rise above it.

Tis a lovely family but I wouldnae want to live here with the midges,” Fraser uttered softly.

Jamie could only nod as he smushed yet another biting fly against his skin. One landed on Blair’s sleeping cheek and he gently brushed it away.

“Come inside,” their host exhorted, “the beasties are fair thirsty tonight.”

At his words retainers tumbled out of the house to direct the Royal Legion to their bunks and stables. Ellis Ellison swung down from his war horse and greeted his old friend with the kiss of peace. They hugged once, gripping each other shoulders and releasing.

“I’ve brought some uisge-beatha to ward off that chill, old man.”

“Old man yerself,” Talisker coughed and drew the Queen’s Sentinel into the beckoning light. Stephen paused at the doorway indecisively before following his grandfather into the house.

Jamie cocked one leg over his saddle and slipped nimbly off his war horse onto the cobblestones. The great horse stood patiently waiting for directions from his master.

“Sire?” A tiny lad screeched to a halt at Jamie’s heels. “I am Sainsbury, the stable lad. My master asked me to tend to you.”

Jamie cast an assessing glance at the mite.

“Tell your master that I will speak to him later. Sean Fraser will see to my mount.”

“Aye, Jamie.”

Pern nickered a soft question and then a velvety soft nose brushed the hairs over his ear.

“Go with Sean, Pern, and remember your station.”

The stallion snorted. Jamie shook his head, the horse’s exhale sounded like a summer storm in his ears.

Fraser took Pern’s bridle with a gentle hand, the other hand he lay on the stable boy’s shoulder turning him to his hip away from Pern’s hooves. “I’ll show you the best way to look after a High King such as Pern.”

“Lord James?” a soft voice caught his attention.

Jamie turned slowly, conscious of the sleeping weight in his arms.

Lady Carolyn bobbed in a lowland curtsey, the hem of her skirt brushing against the damp stones.

“Milady.” Jamie ducked his head in a curtailed bow.

“Rooms have been set aside for the Prince. It is best that you come inside where the candles and peat fires drive away the midges.”

“That is--” Jamie said as another took a pint from his neck, “--a good idea.”

Lady Carolyn was as much as Jamie remembered from the winter solstice ceilidh. Tall, elegant and refined, many a highland lad was smitten by her.

“Is that the prince?” A small girl, a relative judging by the shared russet brown hair, piped up. She clung to Lady Carolyn’s long skirts.  She craned her head trying to see who was held. On her tiptoes she could just make out ringlets, corkscrewing wildly in the damp air, cascading over Jamie’s arm.

“Shouldn’t he be blond? You’re blond; are you the prince?”

“Be quiet, Shauna. Let them inside.” Carolyn waved them into her home.

Jamie breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind him. A short corridor led to a hall. The fire at the far end of the hall did little to stave off the night’s damp chill.

“Conduct me to the prince’s rooms,” Jamie ordered.

“The prince’s rooms are above.”

Jamie allowed his sentinel senses to quest forth as he was led through the Taliskers’ home. He was finally led through one set of rooms into another suite, making them doubly secure. A fire roared in the corner. A suite of evergreen scented candles burned on the windowsill driving off any biting flies. Jamie scanned the room fully before venturing further. A singularly plush bed dominated the room bedecked with sumptuously tasselled pillows. Jamie raised his eyes towards the ceiling; few folk knew how to treat a prince, who also happened to be a young boy.

“When we saw your lanterns across the fen I had my maid draw baths for the royal party.” She gestured to a room adjoining the bedroom.

Jim deposited Blair in the centre of the cushions. The boy yawned, his eyes opening to half-mast as he sunk down to become half obscured by the pillows. Carolyn sniggered inelegantly and Jamie grinned.

“He looks like a doll propped up on satin cushions. There’s far too many.”

“He’s fairly used to it,” Jamie said thinking of Blair’s inappropriately appointed bedroom.

“Has he brought any toys with him? Does he have a bedtime toy?”

“Ah, yes.” Jamie reached down and snagged a couple of pillows and pulled them off the bed. Blair glowered at him, turning to burrow under the remaining cushions.

“Jammy?” Blair reached out sleepily, fumbling to find his beloved toy.

“The countess has Jammy,” Jamie said evenly.

The prince’s nanny slipped into the room behind them. “You called?” She carried a small trunk and a rag tag cuddly toy.

“Ah, Countess Beth.”

“I heard mention of a bath?” she asked.

“Yes,” Carolyn gestured once again to the en-suite.

“A quick bath I think and a glass of warm wheat milk and then straight to bed,” Countess Beth decided.

Blair was as pliable as chewed taffy as she drew him into a sitting position and scooped him up. Jamie poked his head into the bathroom, but all was as it should be and he left the Countess to nanny the prince.

He found a welcoming sitting room, where he judged the centre of the mansion lay. Rafe already lounged beside a roaring fire as he sipped on the contents of a ceramic mug. The assassin nodded amiably indicating that he had checked the Taliskers’ residence. Jamie stood directly in front of the fire turning to warm his behind.

“Your grandfather’s in Talisker’s study quaffing on firewater.”

“They have some bizarre competition going on, something about finding the best of the worst gut rot.”

“Who can supply the most lethal drink?”

“Pretty much so. I remember Talisker visiting when I was a wee bairn. They actually sang.”

“Sang?”

“Sea shanties from your western isles, I recall.”

Eeek.” Rafe set his mug of mulled wine on the table beside his chaise longue.

A soft “Brother,” interrupted them.

“Stephen,” Jamie acknowledged.

The adolescent slinked into the room. He nodded once to Rafe as he settled gingerly on the plush couch opposite the assassin.

Jim plastered a smile on his face, he was profoundly uncomfortable and he hated that he felt that way. Once he and Stephen couldn’t have been separated by rampaging marauders, but now being in Stephen’s presence was akin to being poked with tiny hot needles.

“Where’s your guide?” Stephen asked flatly.

“Blair?” Jamie was kind of surprised by the question. “He’s with his nanny.”

“Nanny?”

“Countess Beth--” Jamie cocked his head to the side, “--is putting him down now.”

“You know that?” It wasn’t really a question.

“Well, yes; she’s telling him a story about a cat in a well. I haven’t heard it before. He’s pretty much asleep now.”

“You’re that aware of him?”

“The same way I know that your dinner that you ate while on the road isn’t settling on your stomach.” Jamie crossed to liquor table and poured a tot of fine, clear spirits into a shot glass. “This will help.”

Stephen accepted it with some grace. “I won’t become a sentinel, will I?”

Rafe stood at his words, bowed once, and then exited the room. Jamie raised an eyebrow at his abrupt departure. His senses told him that the Royal Assassin hovered outside the drawing room listening to their conversation. But Stephen believed that they were alone.

“Probably not, Stevie. I mean--” Jamie shrugged, “it could happen, if I die or Grandfather passes on and I need a heir. I can’t see the future but it’s not impossible. Has Grandfather said anything to you about become Heir to the Gifts?”

“No, he won’t be drawn on the subject.”