Suspicions and Sparrowhawk

It had been a month since Robin was taken to the Gallant Tower. After accepting the trials, he was kept in the castle and unable to return home. Each day, he trained with Kamau. Firstly on breathing, then seeing and reacting, all the while being either laughed or glared at by his new brothers.

One night he was on his way back to his chambers from the bathhouse and caught a glimpse of the eldest. Aurelio was also training but was so much ahead of Robin that he instantly felt overwhelmed. While Robin was watching Kamau throw sticks in the air or chase him around the field, Aurelio was fighting 4 grown men all at once and winning. The one with the laughing tree on his shield swung his blade so fast Robin didn’t even realise until after he was hit. The one with the onyx heart came next with a sword above his head, but he too was defeated by a quick sword jab to the chest with full swing power. Then came the chequers of black and teal, and he was too late. Aurelio rolled through the slice and slammed his wooden blade into his leg and then to the back of the head. Then the laughing tree and the six arrows hit together, each swing blocked with ease before the Prince cut them down.

He exuded power. Yet he was weaker than Arian. The second son scared Robin the most; he imagined his training sessions were more about complete destruction. Suddenly, he felt sorry for nameless knights. As for Aurelio, they called him the Golden Child for a reason: he was a swordsman of the highest calibre. Kamau was a warrior, trained in the fields of death and forced to win or die; he was a sword of Vardar… yet Robin saw Aurelio and saw a master. He wondered if his teacher would be a challenge for his new adversary.

Each night, he looked out to the east, to the slums below the upper courtyard, and ultimately to the Reaver’s. Several times, he had requested leave from the castle, but Oswyn refused outright. He understood why but longed to see his friends again, Tara most of all. He wanted to know she was okay and explain what was happening. They’d been best friends since he could walk, and they depended on each other after they lost their families. In truth, she was the only one he considered a sibling, not Aurelio or Arian or Coryn, just her.

Not long after, he and his brothers were taken out of the castle and toured around the kingdom from the capital, Ignis, to the southernmost city bordering Regalia, Sidir. At each stop, the news of Vulcan’s death, the new Prince, and the trials for succession were announced. Oswyn worked his words; the sons had only to sit behind him on plinths to be paraded to the citizens of their kingdom. Robin didn’t mind it, but the travel was hellish. Oswyn could have easily sent out Ravens and informed the furthest states by letter, but he was a showman at heart. And because of that, they would see a city and move without much time in between.

Each stop, “4th Prince of Alden, Robin Skye!” He heard, followed by shock and awe. Sometimes cheering and adulation, sometimes whispers and content. It felt so robotic after a while; what was life-changing a mere few days ago felt so numb now. Yet he could only look at the stars and pray it would be over.

*-*-*

“Left.” Kamau called, but Robin didn’t notice, and he felt the sting of the training sword strike his arm hard. He cried out in pain, holding his shoulder as he howled. “I told you left.” Kamau said, visibly irritated.

“Sorry.” Robin muttered while he rubbed away the pain. His eyes were blackened beneath, his lips dry, his skin pale, and his stare vacant. The tours were finally complete, but the trials were around the corner, and Kamau was pushing Robin to improve as fast as possible. Kamau was now seeing the build-up push his student to his breaking point.

“We’ll call it there.” Kamau announced.

Robin blinked, wondering if he had fallen asleep but was still conscious. “What? Why?”

“Because you are a soothing breeze away from falling asleep.”

“I’m fine”, Robin assured him as he picked his sword from the ground.

However, Kamau was having none of it and quickly rushed over, calling out directions before throwing his sword in that direction. “Left, right, right, left…” he called, and Robin managed to block them in time, but it was clear he was on the ropes. “Up”, he called; Robin blocked, “Left” once more, and Robin blocked left, but the strike came right. It took the wind from his lungs and knocked him on his back.

“You said left…” Robin complained through the coughs.

“Listen to my sword, not my words. A warrior does not have the luxury of being told where his enemy may strike. Perhaps you could have seen through my ruse if you were more awake.” His teacher responded. He dropped the wooden weapon in the hands of the master at arms at the entrance. “Rest today. Train tomorrow.” He advised before disappearing behind the walls, leaving the young Prince dazed and confused.

Robin found a rare gap in his duties with the sun high in the sky and Kamau gone early. But even though he didn’t like admitting it to Kamau, he was right. The endless days of touring the capital and Sidir were draining. The chariots they rode in were uncomfortable to sleep in, and the road was harsh. During the early hours, Kamau would train with him and then, he would be dragged onto a stage to be presented to the public. That last step repeated around 4 or 5 times daily, with travel and training dotted in between. By the time they were heading back, Robin felt completely dead.

Reluctantly, he decided to follow his teacher’s instruction. He handed his training sword to the master at arms, wiped his brow and planned to get some much-needed sleep. However, the Chancellor caught his attention before he could leave the yard. He waved the young Prince over.

Since their journey, Robin had seen little of Oswyn. He was filling in for Vulcan’s duties along with his own and the preparations for the succession trials. Robin felt a little bad for him for a while, but then he realised that Vulcan did nothing anyway, so it wasn’t much more piled on top. Still, seeing the Chancellor this far from his office was rare. “Chancellor?”

“Care to join an old man on his errand?” He asked quietly. Robin shuffled over and followed him out. He wanted to decline and go back to his room to sleep the day away. Alas, Oswyn had been good to him; returning the favour would only be right.

*-*-*

They arrived at the library, filled with paper worlds and absolute silence. Shelves lined the walls from each end and many more in between. At the centre was a spiral staircase in oiled blackwood that led to even more levels of knowledge. It was refreshing; gone was the overbearing feeling of royalty and the paintings of war. This paper palace was sanctuary; had it not been for the Chancellor, he would have drifted off beyond the clouds.

Oswyn had him gather a list of old heavy tomes that were more dust than book. He had already fished out half a dozen, and more were needed. It was just one more; Robin started to feel like it was more work than the training. How can he need that many? Robin complained, looking back down to the pile towered high. Oswyn noticed and grinned. “Too much for light reading?”

“Chancellor, if that’s light to you, I’d hate to see your training sessions.”

Oswyn laughed. “You have my thanks. These will come in handy for the trials.”

Robin climbed back down from the ladder with a heavy book still in hand and shaky legs. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly are these for?”

“Hmm, well, some are details on topography, some are more medicinal. I’ve never been to the Ingot Isles, but any that have left us with horror stories. Poor conditions and diseased beasts are problems we need to prepare for.”

“And suddenly, I’m even more worried.” Robin muttered while stretching his back on the seat beside the old man.

Oswyn held up one of the books effortlessly with just one hand, even shaking it. “That’s why I have these. I should have everything I need for now. I’ll let you go.”

Music to Robin’s ears. Finally, he celebrated quietly, choosing to nod as to not seem rude. But he enjoyed thinking of the bathhouse on his way out, a luxury he had been missing since their journey and now a luxury he was quickly falling for. But Oswyn looked back his way. He wanted to say more to the young Prince, and though it may not have been wise, he had set up their time in the library specifically for it. “I lied about Kamau, you know.” Oswyn said.

Robin instantly felt dread, like he was about to feel a knife in the back. It eased slightly as he turned and saw the old man still thumbing through crumbling pages vigorously. “What about him?” He asked, nervous for the answer.

“It is true that I assigned him to help you prepare. However, there is another reason as to why I chose him.” Oswyn lifted his head from his books, his milky eyes now staring at the young man. He is not of the Alden royal court.”

“So?” Robin responded. “I could have guessed that when you said he was of Vardar.”

The old man lowered his voice, almost like he had heard ears against the walls. “No doubt you will have heard that the King was murdered and the killer was not caught?” He asked, and Robin nodded, still unsure of what it had to do with his teacher. “I discovered his majesty, saw the knife in his chest… and the shade that had plunged the steel into him.”

The revelation hit Robin like a ton of bricks. “You saw them?!”

“I did”, he responded. “I saw a shadow, no family colours, or facial features… nothing that puts name to knife.”

That explains the missing killer, Robin told himself.

“Killing in our country is not too tricky. You can have a professional do it if you have the coin. I came to that conclusion early on until I gave it another thought. A King is not an easy target; I imagine it would cost more than a shiny coin.” Oswyn added. “A price that the lower class could not afford.”

A strange observation to make, Robin thought. “Why would you think of them? Of the lower class?”

Oswyn trained his eyes on Robin again. This time, it felt more like he was seeing right through him. “Because I know you hated him.” Robin felt dread, but Oswyn simply laughed when Robin reacted. “You don’t need to worry, Robin. Everyone from the slums hated the King; I’m aware of that much.”

Robin sighed in relief, trying to play it cool.

“It is because I know who his enemies were that I can work out who his killer was.”

“If it wasn’t someone from the slums, who would have done it?” Robin asked.

“Very few in the kingdom would benefit from the King’s death. In fact, I can only name four, but I would wager one killed his majesty.”

When Robin first heard of the King’s murder, he didn’t care who had done it; it never bothered him. Vulcan spent much of his time throwing parties and tourneys and inviting the rich and powerful. They loved him. He kept them entertained and well respected; he clamped down on violence in their districts because he feared it would ruin his fun. Because of that, it didn’t make sense that an upper district resident would hold enough hate in their heart to have him killed. Indeed, what the Chancellor said made sense, but… if not the rich, and not the poor…

“Who then? Who are the four?” He asked.

“Well, two of the names are yours and mine.” Robin felt his heart drop.

Is he accusing me?

“However. I did not kill the King, and I am certain the boy who only learned of his lineage after the King was dead is also innocent.” Oswyn explained, clearing Robin’s head. “The other two are your brothers, Arian and Aurelio, I’m afraid. Both of them have the throne to gain should the King die. And while I do not wish to believe any of them could kill their father… I have no other choice.”

Robin somewhat shared the suspicion. Neither Aurelio nor Arian shied away from threats, even to their own brothers. And Aurelio would benefit the most. Had Arian not stepped in, he would be the new King already. But Arian, he was bloodlust incarnate. He was much like his father, filled with greed.

“That is why I lent Kamau to you, Robin. If any of the three are the killer, I fear they will not just stop with the King. They will want to kill anyone with a claim to the throne, and the succession trials are the perfect opportunity. I can trust you, and I can trust Kamau. But this conversation must not leave this room… Arian and Aurelio have ears in the courts; no doubt they also have people in my council. Can you swear you will keep this quiet?” The old man asked.

“I can, I will…” he confirmed. What choice did he have? Arian and Aurelio already scared him, and that was when he thought the worst-case scenario for him was injury… now there was a chance one of them would try and kill him… his weariness was gone entirely, replaced by a sickness and fear.

“Good.” Oswyn replied. “I will do my utmost to find the killer before the trials. Keep training well, and I will help you as I can.”

Robin and Oswyn bid farewell as the Prince wandered like a wisp to the corridors. “Prince Robin.” Oswyn called again, but he had no energy to face the Chancellor this time. “I will be rooting for you.”

*-*-*

Robin went to bed that night imagining the King’s death, with a different son holding the blade. The golden son that would become the new King… the second son that could use the uncertainty to his advantage and force a battle for the crown that he could skew his way… the bastard son that wanted revenge…

The last was ridiculous. He knew he had no part in Vulcan’s death, but… he wanted it. Oswyn himself was clean; he would benefit the least from the King’s death; he was sure of that. And Coryn, a boy of 14 with nothing but play on his mind didn’t seem the type, that and he wouldn’t gain the throne even if he killed his father.

All Robin knew was that one of the two likely killed their own flesh and blood… he feared the trials to come, where he would see what they would do to him…

The nightmares continued throughout the night, drowning him in dread.

*-*-*

A week later, Robin stood at the western docks, facing the battered and aged beauty he could call his. Aurelio had his Goldspear, a galleon of stained Yronwood so strong it could cleave metal. Arian commanded the captainship of his fleet, called the Hellfire, blackened and terrifying. Coryn’s, on the other hand, was gifted to him by his mother’s family. The Iceglider, elegantly pale and flying the black and red of his father…

Oswyn only had one ship to give away, and it was one that the King won early into his years… it was falling to pieces. Though, it was exactly him. The pure-blood brothers could have their fancy ships. This one was abandoned and broken, thought to be useless. No, it was his ship now. It wasn’t some broken beast at all… it was The Sparrowhawk.

Kamau commanded their crew, and they set sail on the open seas. He watched the land retreat behind the waves from the bow, his home slowly shrinking away. He waved to those who couldn’t see him anymore… “see you later, Tara.”