Chapter 42

  Sabina’s great-grandmother was of Evalonian descent. Diligent as she was, Sabina stayed in touch with her extended relatives. Though the families rarely met, they did exchange correspondence and kept appraised of each other’s affairs.

  The reason for the divide was the not so insignificant distance between Evalon and Ithica. Between them was the nation of Glengard and the Agon Sea, one had to cross the Agean Channel from Glengard to reach the coasts of Ithica. Even with the recent advancements in travel, it would take more than a month at the earliest to traverse between the two countries.

  Astrid was a distant cousin of Sabina’s from her Evalonian roots. She was the exception in that she had visited Sabina often over the years and fostered a friendship that went beyond their shared lineage. Her frequent appearances were only possible to her being taken in by wanderlust. A wild child, Astrid had left home in her younger years and had never settled since, taking to the life a nomad.

  Her life had been one of an explorer, adventurer and mercenary. The first two were her passions, the latter being the most logical solution to sustain her lifestyle.

  Her wanders made for fantastic experiences. Travelling across continents. Discovering natural wonders and feats of civilization. Exploring the obscure and hidden places of the world. Meeting the many peoples and partaking of their cultures.

  Then there were the more daring of her exploits. Becoming a privateer and taking to the seas to sink pirates. Playing bodyguard to Gypsy caravans. Bounty hunting outlaws and bandits. Fighting in arenas for fame and coin. Partying with adventurers on jobs. Hunting monsters for quests.

  Such were the stories that Astrid shared with Hektor, who was as fascinated as he was envious of her adventures. As Astrid told it, she seemed to be living the most exciting of lives that Hektor could imagine.

  In turn, Hektor found himself woefully lacking when Astrid pressed him for his own history. He couldn’t deny her, not after she had been so forthcoming. He obliged, even if his life felt like cheap copper to Astrid’s pearls of escapades.

  Strangely enough, the one thing Astrid took issue with was Hektor’s failing in the study of combat. Perhaps not so surprising given that she was Evalonian, but Hektor was blindsided by the intensity of her anger.

  Any reason or excuse that he made only seemed to make her angrier. She wasn’t having it.

  “You can try to be as clever as you like,” she scolded. “But that you haven’t been trained in war and combat is a travesty!”

  “Athena help me! You should know better!” she admonished. “You can be all pedantic about it, but violence is violence! It is a part of who we are. It defines us. Is it not a part of the ‘human condition’ that you scholarly people like to prattle about?” she mocked.

  “You know what it is to fight! To struggle. How important it is. Then what is this foolishness of abstaining? What are you going to do, tickle your enemies to death?”

  An angry Evalonian made for a terrifying sight.

  “The discipline of combat is not one single thing. It is as much a contest of the minds as the strength of one’s arm. A battle of wills rather than just of muscle and bone.”

  “You do not yet know what it is like when an adversary stands against you. When an enemy wants you dead. You do not know what to do, how to defend, how to attack. You are helpless, exposed and weak, unprepared for when you become an obstacle for others to overcome.”

  Taking Hektor’s pacifism as a personal insult, Astrid had not been shy to berate Hektor to his fallacy. She was quite through in giving him a dressing down for the perceived lunacy.

  “And given who you are and who your mother is, it is even more egregious!” Astrid added to her long tirade. “You are supposed to lead and defend your people. It is your duty to protect them. How will you do that? How will you learn to command, to lead your troops into battle, handle logistics, decide strategy and deploy tactics?”

  “You are without a paddle in a storm, boy. No, you are overboard!”

  Hektor took the scolding without objection. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard over the years, be it from his mother or his teachers. Nothing Astrid had said was some new revelation to him.

  Hektor was aware of his shortcomings and was he was striving to be better.

  Which is why he couldn’t help but feel cross and hard done by Astrid just dropping by and then going on to lecture him on his faults. She was being unfair and rude.

  Yet, as always, he held his tongue. Astrid wasn’t doing any harm. Rather, she was looking out for him. He would be a fool, well, a bigger fool according to Astrid, if he got angry at people caring for him.

  And he couldn’t deny that she was speaking sense. There was truth to her words.

  Astrid’s warning felt truer on the day when Hektor was set to meet the visitors from Triton. Hektor had to admit that it would have helped for once if he knew what to expect when facing an adversary. While he never went looking for enemies, those whom he was about to meet saw him as a rival. It apparently didn’t matter to them that Hektor was a pawn and not the one to instigate all the plotting.

  Well, nothing for it. First time for everything he supposed.

  The guests had arrived in the city just the past day and had invited themselves over to the castle the following morn. That they were foreign nobility meant that the formalities had to be observed on both sides in accordance to their station.

  The Duke and Duchess had to extend their welcome while the Tritons had to pay respects to the hosts and adhere to their hospitality.

  Thankfully, Hektor was spared the initial introductions on account of the Duke. Sabina had always limited Hektor’s presence around Farley as a show of courtesy. Being Sabina’s son out of wedlock, Hektor’s presence would have made things uncomfortable and lowered Farley’s standing in front of the foreigners.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Which had led to much of the afternoon for the guests from Triton being tied up with the Duke and Duchess in observing ceremony. It was only close to evening when both sides decided by unspoken agreement that they had honored each other appropriately to finally move on to matters of import.

  After a time, Farley had excused himself, thus paving the way for Hektor to be involved in the circus.

  As sure as the sky is up and the ground below, the Tritons requested to meet with Sabina’s son to congratulate him on his future engagement and ennobling. And who could deny them their good will after having crossed nations to attend the birthday of a boy they barely knew existed a few months ago.

  Hektor arrived at the door to a drawing room that was allocated for hosting the more formal guests. A guard at the door gave a shallow bow, while the other knocked and stepped inside, partially blocking him for view.

  Hektor steeled his nerves as he heard the guard announce him in. “Young Master Hektor,” the guard heralded in a booming voice tand stepped aside to reveal the entrant.

  Hektor stepped through and clocked the three men sitting before the Duchess.

  It was a strange moment in that just as Hektor was compelled to investigate the strangers, so too were the three strangers keen to inspect him in turn.

  A good thing for Hektor was that he wasn’t going blind and he had been provided information on the Tritons.

  The most eye catching of them was Hans Weis, nephew of the Triton Queen and second son of Duke Weis. Blonde haired, pale skinned, tall and muscular; he was the model image of a Triton princeling. He had his shoulder length hair arranged in a parted ponytail that just brushed his wide shoulders. Grey eyes and delicate facial features complimented a bodybuilder’s physique. Suffice to say, he was a handsome man.

  Hektor got a vague impression of Shane about Hans Weis. Both men seemed far too taken with their appearances.

  The second person Hektor identified was Niklas Lang, son of Baron Lang. He appeared to be the same age as Hans Weis, around thirty. He was barrel chested with a belly showing, slick blonde hair and a mustache.

  What caught Hektor’s eye was that Niklas Lang had a cruel face. Information about the man painted him as an unpleasant sort and Hektor’s first impression of him concurred. As they faced off, Lang looked Hektor up and down with a sense of arrogance and derision, a sneering smirk snaking across his thin lips.

  The last person was Otto Kaspar, a scion from one of the wealthiest families in Triton. At first glance, he seemed the most measured of the lot. A lean man with a bookish appearance and curly auburn hair, Kaspar came across as someone competent and calculating with his shrewd gaze.

  All three men wore suits with the traditional Triton fashion of tasseled sleeves and a sash clipped across their chest from the left shoulder to their right hip.

  Weis and Lang sported purple sashes, while Kasper did with a bluish one.

  “Hektor,” Sabina’s voice rang clear across the room, “let me introduce Lord Hans Weis,” she gestured with a wave of her hand. Hektor gave a shallow bow to the man who stood and returned the gesture.

  Sabina did the same for the others. “Lord Niklas Lang. And Mister Otto Kaspar. Gentlemen, my son Hektor,” she spoke to the guests.

  Hektor offered the same greeting to the others, surprising them when he gave a bow to Otto Kaspar, who wasn’t nobility. Lang seemed particularly annoyed at the equal respect afforded to the three of them.

  Giving a reassuring smile to Sabina, Hektor chose to sit close by her.

  The Tritons were seated facing Sabina which made it easy for them to pivot slightly and shift their focus on to her son.

  Hektor meanwhile, looked placidly towards the Tritons, projecting open friendship and an eagerness for conversation. Yet he remained silent, waiting on the Tritons to take the first step.

  Till then, Hektor hadn’t spoken a word and his somewhat usual behavior gave the Tritons pause. Eventually, it was Hans Weis who broke the stalemate.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Master Hektor,” Weis started off innocuously.

  “You are too kind,” Hektor deferred. “The pleasure is mine Lord Weis, Lord Lang and Mister Kaspar,” he deferred to them one by one. Having said his piece, Hektor went quiet again and looked on with anticipation at Weis.

  Weis was unsure as to what Hektor was playing at. The boy seemed to clearly expect something from him. Either that or the boy was a simpleton.

  “Congratulations on your engagement and ennobling,” offered Weis graciously. His compatriots added their own toasts to his, their Triton accents slightly harsher and sharper between the syllables.

  “Thank you,” Hektor returned with the same bland smile plastered on his face.

  Weis glanced at the Duchess and saw her observing the interaction as an audience rather than participating.

  “You must be a proud and happy man,” Weis offered the vague compliment. He was none too pleased at having to make small talk with the runt.

  “Your pardon, Lord Weis. But I am not,” spoke Hektor, choosing to spring his plan.

  All three Tritons sat straighter at the unexpected confession.

  “Why do you say that?” Lang interjected curtly, sitting cross legged with his leg dangling rudely high.

  Weis almost hissed at the man for his discourteous manner. Weis looked to the Duchess and took a relieved breath at her not taking offence. It took an effort of will just to look away from the beautiful woman and focus on her son’s antics.

  “I am not particularly ambitious, Lord Lang,” Hektor addressed the man calmly. “I was content with my lot before all this came to be. My life was predictable. Peaceful. I would have preferred it to remain so to what it is now.”

  The three guests were caught flatfooted and repeatedly exchanged looks between the mother and son to comprehend what was happening.

  Kaspar caught Weis’ attention, asking permission. Weis allowed it with a surreptitious nod.

  “If I may be so bold as to say, Master Hektor,” spoke Kaspar leadingly, “Most men would be overjoyed to have Miss Croft’s hand in marriage.”

  “Yes,” Hektor nodded. “Miss Croft is a beautiful, talented and hardworking woman. Any man would be proud to have her for a bride,” Hektor openly agreed, but left things unsaid.

  All the while, Kaspar was seemingly growing wise to Hektor’s ploy. “Would you not include yourself?”

  “I am too young, Mister Kaspar,” Hektor admitted easily. “I am barely sixteen and suddenly I find myself engaged and about to become a count. You may appreciate that I am wary of the responsibilities that come with.”

  “Getting cold feet, Hektor?” Weis tried for a humoring tone while sniffing for answers. The boy apparently had a loose tongue and was blurting out everything.

  “Not at all, Lord Weis,” Hektor assured. “I will uphold my duty.”

  A glimpse of enmity momentarily flared by Weis and Lang. Kaspar kept his emptions masked, having worked out that Hektor was wielding the blunt truth like a cudgel against them.

  For reasons his own, Kaspar decided to lend the boy a helping hand. “What duty would that be?” he assisted with the perfect question.

  “To protect Miss Croft and guard our interests,” Hektor answered frankly. “To keep the peace between our nations.”

  The last statement left so much unsaid, yet held vast implications.

  “Perhaps a touch too bold for you to say so, Master Hektor,” Kaspar commented suggestively at Hektor’s implied suggestion.

  “I apologize if that was presumptuous,” Hektor conceded with the height of politeness. “Yet all of this has come to pass because of everyone coveting Miss Croft and her inheritance.”

  Weis and Lang shifted in their seats.

  “Making you the victor. Gloating, Master Hektor?” Kaspar insinuated in a flat tone, making a show of his displeasure and siding with his countrymen.

  “Not at all, Mister Kaspar. I didn’t even know that I was involved. I was but an unwilling pawn chosen by default for being the most convenient and harmless. That is hardly a victory, gentlemen,” Hektor spoke calmly.

  “Your point being?” Kaspar collaborated, acting sincere and interested.

  For once, Hektor wasn’t ready with a rapid answer, the question giving him the perfect opportunity to get his message across. With Sabina at his side, he could afford to take bigger risks.

  “A series of rare coincidences have brought us together where we would never have crossed paths otherwise,” Hektor uttered with careful consideration. “I acknowledge that we have our roles to play, gentlemen. And I do not begrudge you being here. All of us have commitments and orders to follow,” he stated sympathetically.

  “All I could hope to ask is that we do not get carried away and conduct ourselves as reasonably as possible.”

  The Tritons looked on with incredulity at the audacity. Even Kaspar was surprised by Hektor’s cheek.

  Sabina acted exasperated, while inwardly cheering her son on. Thadeus had been right all along. Without expectations to hold him back, Hektor was like a man unleashed.