Secret of the Sunstones, Part 1: The Wanton Kingdom

Chapter XI : Appearances

Earlnight of Terminus, Thirtieth Day of Harvestmoon

Bram had already grown tired of the king’s banquet. After all the endorsements and accolades, the mood fell flat, and the guests looked as bored and disinterested as he did. Uninspiring musicians played a slow waltz, but no one danced. Long tables overflowed with bountiful food spreads, but no one ate. The guests had already broken into cliques, lethargically discussing topics of banal conversation.

The King hadn’t erred. He invited all the right people, who all did their duty by attending; but in the end, the atmosphere was far from celebratory. Perhaps folks misunderstood what had warranted the event. Or perhaps they were content—even bored—with all the growth and prosperity that Richard had already given them. Or, perhaps, they knew the banquet was a sham and didn’t care, as long as their wealth kept growing.

After all, the cover story did seem a bit contrived. And as far as Bram was concerned, it felt dirty. He replayed the prior day’s events in his head ever since leaving the king’s chambers. Something about what the Gurudeva had said still bothered him. He couldn’t recall the exact words, but it sounded like the sunstone was cursed … that it was destined to invite calamity.

As soon as etiquette allowed, he bid farewell to the many aristocrats and industry magnates who had come to see him. He would have rather been surrounded by his crew. Biggs and the rest were close colleagues and true friends. He owed them his life, yet they never seemed to make the cut to Richard’s events. Bram hoped it wouldn’t be long before he could rejoin them aboard the Heron to fly once more on missions that had nothing to do with sunstones or chancellors.

After saying the last of his goodbyes, he was ready to rejoin Rosa and leave. But before he could sneak out, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Based on the particular scent of pipe tobacco, he knew exactly who it was. He turned around to meet Angkor’s Grand Craftsman, who beamed and extended his hand.

“Sir Morrison! A very welcome pleasure it is to see you. Congratulations are in order, it seems.”

Bram had heard many similar phrases that night, and all of them stung. He suppressed what would have been a sigh of weariness.

“Ah, yes, Mister Curtis. So good of you to make it.” He shook the Craftsman’s hand and was rather surprised by the mighty grip.

“It’s been more than a year since we spoke,” Cedric ruminated. “I’ve been meaning to catch up with you and hear of your adventures. I assume you’re here with Lady Reynolds?”

Bram was wary of getting dragged into long conversations. He had been one foot out the door when Cedric tapped to get his attention, and he hoped to find a good reason to excuse himself. It required some grace, given the nature of his relationship. Cedric was a longtime ally, always willing to service the Heron when repairs were needed, and Bram wanted to keep it that way.

“Yes, Rosa’s nearby. I’ve been meaning to introduce you ….”

Bram glanced over his shoulder, hoping to find his betrothed and make quick introductions. Unfortunately, she appeared to be stuck in a conversation with some haughty noblewomen who were gossiping her ears off. He frowned at the missed opportunity.

“Oh, we’ve already met, actually.”

Bram turned his attention back to the Craftsman, now quite curious about this previously unknown affair.

“It was at last year’s Unification Centennial,” Cedric explained. “We ran into each other by chance and ended up talking all night.”

Bram remembered. He had left Rosa behind that morn, even though he had promised to take her to the event. King Richard had ordered him on a mission to assess the military capabilities of the Maldenese Empire, due to its years of successful economic growth.

Once again, his sudden absence had injured the one he loved. Rosa looked forward to the event, but his job required him to leave in secret without so much as a warning. She must have gone, expecting him to be there, only to find that he had inadvertently stood her up. He couldn’t imagine how terribly embarrassed and lonely she must have felt. For many months, he regretted it deeply.

“She’s quite a woman,” Cedric complimented. “You’re a lucky man, Sir Morrison.”

Bram was tired of small talk. Sure, Cedric was well-intentioned, but his words of kindness had a sharpened edge. The Craftsman surely had no idea of his relationship troubles, but that didn’t mean Bram needed to stand there and allow old wounds to open.

He gritted his teeth and nodded politely, hoping to find his excuse to leave.

Unfortunately, Cedric kept going. “So, tell me how my ship’s doing?”

Bram groaned. Any other day, he would have loved talking shop with Cedric. But now was not that night. Not when his future depended on his performance over the next few days. He needed a good night’s sleep, not another scab to pick. It left him feeling hot and sweaty under his crisply starched dress shirt.

“She’s fine, Cedric.” He said stiffly, referring to the Heron. “She flies just like the day she was built.”

Cedric’s toothy grin indicated his pleasure. “I’m overjoyed. The Heron is one of my favorite designs, you know.”

It looked like he had more to say, but he stopped short. Perhaps it was the pause Bram was waiting for. Unfortunately, the Craftsman found his words before Bram could retreat.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he blurted. “I heard some terrible rumors about your return earlier today.” He took a deep breath. “I was just wondering … well … if there was any truth ….”

He trailed off, no doubt reacting to the shadow creeping over Bram’s expression.

“What did you hear?” the Knight demanded, brows crossed.

Bram didn’t think anyone saw him being led at spearpoint to the king’s chamber. But he couldn’t be sure. If Cedric knew, who else? Bram glowered, awaiting his answer.

The Craftsman must have realized he had overstepped. “I, uhh … it was just one of those things one hears around the hangar. That’s all. If there’s no truth, then—”

“I can’t be sure, since you haven’t specified. But, as far as rumors go, I would suggest you think twice before believing what you hear around the hangar.”

He knew that Cedric had connections inside the palace, and gossip traveled fast. There was probably no way to trace the rumor to its source, but once that rumor worked its way to Tom Reynolds, it was sure to get back to Rosa.

The Knight tried to calm his nerves. “What I mean to say is that being a Gnostic comes with its share of criticism. And lies. But as you can see from this evening’s event, my standing in the kingdom has never been better. If this ‘rumor’ happened to suggest that I would step down from captaining the Heron, just know it’s temporary. The king has given me an important job, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

He kept the explanation vague and brief so as to not violate protocol. He would have liked to tell the Craftsman all about a certain unscrupulous chancellor-soon-to-become-First-Advisor who had it in for him, but a sham banquet wasn’t the place, nor was now the right time.

Cedric furrowed his brow, and his speech increased in tempo. “Yes, of course! I understand. And I promise to take good care of your ship for as long as it rests in my hangar. You can be sure of that.”

Bram relaxed. The Craftsman was often quite helpful. Bram shouldn’t have snapped at him.

“Thank you, Cedric.”

The Craftsman brightened, his words now fully accelerated. “Anytime. I wish you well on your journey, and may the king’s good graces be with you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve been working long hours. It’s high time I retired for the evening.”

Much to Bram’s relief, Cedric excused himself.

“Live in good health, Mister Curtis,” he stated to thin air, since the Craftsman had already scurried off.

The Knight steadied his nerves. Most likely, Cedric was acting in the capacity of a concerned friend, and Bram’s reproachful tone was too much for him. He wasn’t like others in the palace, who’d put on a nice façade and spoke politely, only to backstab a person later. Bram figured he should relax and not infer too much.

Either way, he finally had his opportunity to leave. Rosa still spoke to the three women by the champagne table, and by the look on her face, appeared to be deeply regretting it. He decided to rescue her with a small hand gesture. She made eye contact, excused herself, and joined her lover.

“Hello, Dear. Enjoying the party?” she asked upon reaching his side.

He rolled his eyes in jest. “The time of my life.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, me too.”

It was time to clinch it. “I think it’s time we retired for the night, Rosie. Do you need to make any final goodbyes?”

She shrugged and shook her head. “Not really.”

She extended her hand, and he took it, curling his forearm around hers. The two exited the ballroom and walked onto a lamp-lit path. The night’s sky had hundreds of stars, all of them twinkling peacefully.

“So … what was that thing you wanted to tell me?” he asked.

She smiled back, long lashes fluttering. “Let’s just enjoy the view for a bit.” She looked at him lovingly. “Shall we?”

Bram gazed into her eyes, wishing he could embrace her and never let go. He dreaded what the future would bring. Whatever fate was destined in the months ahead, it would surely involve a series of world-changing events. Nations across the world might very well unleash the might of the sunstones as they vied for control. Yet Bram’s duty prevented him from divulging such foresight.

For one brief moment, he wondered what it would be like to share his burden. Doing so would be a grievous breech of security, and he could easily be prosecuted. And by dragging Rosa into it, he’d be risking her wellbeing, too. Yet, saying nothing might leave her unprepared. It was a weighty decision—possibly the most consequential of his life. Then again, who else could he trust, if not the woman he loved?

He looked up at the stars, comforted by her company. Perhaps, merely enjoying the view in Rosa’s presence was enough.