Mark of the Fool
Chapter 566: A Sacred Bond

The prince was clad in clothing of green, woven from leaves of what looked to be scores of trees. Wreaths of summer berries were entwined throughout his beard, and vibrant red vines were twisted through his plaits.

A garland of dried fruit lay around his neck and a crown of blossoms encircled his brow. Even Najyah had been adorned with wide cuffs of ivy just above her talons.

The prince looked as though lightning had just struck him.

His eyes were unfocused, and though he walked with purpose, it almost seemed like he didn’t quite know where he was going.

As one, his cabal rushed to meet him, with Claygon’s footsteps shaking the floor.

“Khalik!” Alex said, seizing his friend by the shoulders. “You’re alive.”

The prince looked at him. “I…am.”

“What in the world’s happening?” Thundar demanded. “You look like…I don’t know.”

“Why do you have blood on your hands?” Isolde asked.

“I am fine,” Khalik said, as though just waking from a dream. “First things first. Your reward.” He raised his hand toward the bartender. “Barkeep, my friend, open a tab under the name of Khalik.”

The barkeep gave him an incredulous look. “We only have a few more minutes until last call.”

“Not a problem.” The prince spread both arms. “Broach a mini-keg—no, make that three mini-kegs of oat and apple honey mead. Also bring three bottles of ardenian fortified wine to our table. A twenty year vintage, if you have it. Then some dwarven fire vodka. I will not only settle with you immediately, but tip you handsomely.”

“I…you’re the boss!” the barkeep sprang into action, reaching for a bottle of wine from one of the higher shelves.”

“What is happening, Khalik?” Isolde demanded. “We were worried sick. I was ready to go to war with half of Generasi if you did not walk through that door.”

Khalik looked at her in surprise. “Truly?”

“Yes!” Claygon, Alex, Isolde and Thundar yelled at the same time.

Najyah pecked at her master’s head.

“Well, that is touching, but no war is necessary,” he smiled. “And come, I owe you all an explanation.”

Leading the bewildered group back to their own table, Khalik threw himself into a chair and let out a groan as though all the world’s weight was sliding off him. Najyah hopped from his shoulder and perched on the edge of the table.

As the others settled in around him, the prince suddenly burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Alex demanded. “Have you completely lost it?”

“Yes…no…perhaps,” Khalik said. “Alright, I am sure you are wondering where I was and what I was doing. First, I must thank you for your patience and trust. What I had to do, I had to do alone.”

“And what the hell was that?” Thundar demanded. “What did you do, go fight some evil tree for the dryads or something?”

“No,” Khalik said. “I asked Sinope to marry me.”

Dead silence filled the Brass Grapes, only broken by the bartender scrambling to grab the last of their drinks.

“What?” Alex murmured.

“Did I hear you correctly?” Isolde asked.

“I think I had something in my ear.” Thundar’s jaw dropped.

“Congratulations…” Claygon said.

“Yes, that is what this was about,” Khalik said. “And why I had to do it alone. I would not—”

“Never mind that! What’d she say?” Alex demanded.

Khalik gave him a look. “If I had returned on the first night, I would have needed consoling. I do not need consoling.”

“Holy shit, congratulations!” Alex shouted, clapping him on the shoulder.

“You almost killed us, but yeah, man, I didn’t think you two were already there,” Thundar said.

“I…I am shocked, but most happy for you, though I do wonder…” Isolde shifted awkwardly. “Considering who you are, would this not…complicate things?”

“It will,” the prince said. “And sooner than I had expected. Truly, I have been thinking of this since our sojourns to the hells: what life might bring. How long it might be. How short. And who I wished to spend that life with. Sinope makes me happy, and I her, thankfully. So I did as needed.”

He looked at Thundar. “As for what you said, I thought about that. In many places, those of noble and royal blood are made to marry those they have only met a handful of times, with no opportunity for courting. Sinope and I have had something of a year now, and I wished to make my intentions known. True, that is short by some standards, but I chose to act. If my decision proves wrong later, so be it, but I believe it is not.”

“Well, that’s…spoken with conviction,” Alex laughed as the barkeep placed the beginnings of Khalik’s order down on the table. “Well, uh, shit—what’re we doing? We should be buying you drinks!”

“No, you waited for me and supported me. And so I am buying for you.” Khalik smiled. “But there is more to tell. The dryads have an engagement ritual for those seeking to wed into their kinship. Onemust survive in the forest by their own wits, harvest from the land to feed themself, climb the greatest oak in all their forest, while harming no tree. Lastly—”

He raised his hands. “—cuts are made along the palms of the pair who wish to be wed and they join their palms together, then make their oath of engagement beneath the tree the dryad is bonded to. That is where I made my oath with Sinope. We are to be wed in a year’s passing on the same day that we took our oath. The year allows time for lovers to learn more about each other with full knowledge of their commitment as it grows like a tree from the earth.”

Khalik smiled, as though realisation had just struck him. “She said yes. She said yes!”

He suddenly leapt from his seat, punching his fists above his head. Najyah shrieked with him in victory, and Claygon suddenly roared as the barkeep ducked for cover. In moments, Alex, Isolde and Thundar were cheering too, just as they had some two years ago when together, they’d slain a bone drinker for the very first time.

With a laugh that shook his whole body, Khalik threw himself back into his chair and broached the mini-keg. “Tonight, my friends, we drink to victory, love, bright futures and flower-filled fields. And to other such things that would make even the most syrupy poet sick to his stomach!”

Thundar laughed. “I hear that,” he said, grabbing Isolde and Alex’s cups and holding them under the keg’s tap. “Tomorrow, we won’t be able to move. As it should be.”

“I, for one, will practise decorum and restraint. I have things to do tomorrow.” Isolde said.

“I can cure hangovers now…within reason,” Alex reminded her, eagerly watching Thundar fill their cups.

“Not if you are too drunk to use blood magic,” Isolde pointed out.

“Ah, details.” Alex waved a hand, licking his lips as he took his overflowing stein. “So, have you always planned to propose now? Why now? I know you said that the hells got you thinking, but was there something special about this particular time? And listen, why’d you look like someone had tried to kill you when we met up near the bakery?”

“Because I had partly convinced myself that I was being incredibly foolish,” the prince said.

“Why?” Isolde asked. “The worst she could have said was no.”

Thundar looked at Alex, and both young men burst out laughing.

“Hahahaha, holy shit, that was good, Isol—Oh wait, you were serious,” Thundar paused, taking an awkward sip of his drink and moving on. “Since you were afraid she’d get freaked out or something, what made you do it now?”

The prince gave him a grave look. “Well, to be honest, I was originally planning to make my proposal toward the end of summer, but…my hand had to move quicker than I’d planned.”

“Really? Why?” Alex asked, taking a swig of his drink.

“So, I have some more news for you…my parents will be arriving in Generasi during the Games of Roal.”

It took every drop of self control to keep Alex from spitting his drink all over the table, and Khalik.

Thundar actually choked and was sputtering.

“What?” Isolde demanded. “The ki—” her voice cut off, and she looked around the nearly empty bar before dropping her tone to a whisper. “The king and queen of Tekezash will be coming here?”

“Indeed,” Khalik said. “It seems that my time of anonymity in this city will be coming to an end. I am lucky that it has lasted these near two-years. Sinope knows, of course, but I wanted things…done before any complications arose.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Alex said, trying to imagine the faraway royals. The idea of meeting a king and queen made him nervous, which was odd, when he thought about it.

Baelin was arguably more powerful than any monarch in the world, and he called the ancient goatman by his first name. Khalik—a prince—was one of his best friends…but there was still a part of him, the part that was still the commoner from a small town, that shuddered at the idea of meeting kings and queens in person.

He tried to imagine the encounter. Would there be lots of guards? Bards with brass horns to announce them? War golems to serve as bodyguards? Battle wizards and war priests ready to rain hell down on any would be assassin?

That would be something to see.

He wondered how they would get to Generasi.

His imagination conjured a ship of gold sailing into the Generasi harbour.

“That’s ridiculous,” he chastised himself.

“Hm?” Khalik looked at him, puzzled.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Aaaaahhh.” Khalik wagged a finger at him. “Oh no, my friend, anyone who says it’s nothing definitely means ‘it’s something, but I am too nervous or embarrassed to speak of it’. We are all friends here. Speak, friend, and have no fear.”

“Okay, okay. It’s really not a big deal. I was wondering how they’d get to Generasi. I imagined a golden ship. Like one made out of gold. Seems like something you crazy rich folk would have.”

“Alex, it would sink.”

“That’s why I said it was ridiculous, but you wanted to know!”

Khalik nearly choked on his mead. “Alright, alright. Fair enough. Well, since you are so curious: they hired a wizard skilled in teleportation, one who has travelled between Tekezash and Generasi. According to my brother, the wizard in question was not available until recently.”

“Couldn’t they have just hired another teleporter?”

“Aaaaah, but there are few who would be suited to such a job.” Khalik tapped the side of his nose. “You see, not just any teleporter is bonded to work with royalty and other great powers of the world. To be selected for such positions, they must be bound by oath, have an impeccable record of service, great discretion, and an unquestionable relationship with security. Sometimes, they work with lesser nobles for decades before their names are even put forward to work with royals in any kingdom. Sometimes, even magicallyenforced oathsareinvolved. After all, the relationship is significant with much at stake, since one willingly travels with a teleporter and puts their life completely in their hands.”

“Yeah, that actually makes a lot of sense,” Alex said, thinking of all the times Baelin had teleported them. The ancient wizard could have easily teleported them to the bottom of the ocean, if he wanted to. He’d never really given much thought to just how much trust he’d been putting in the chancellor right from the beginning.

He paused, thinking of his own future.

The Traveller’s power burned inside him and—if he mastered it as Hannah and Kelda had—he’d be one of the most skilled teleporters in the world. Perhaps in many worlds. And, he already had a connection to royalty.

Teleporting folk could be another career for him down the road.

“How much do these trusted teleporters get paid?” Alex asked.

“You do not want to know. It is a fortune. Hiring a ship would be far more reasonable,” Khalik admitted. “And they are in very high demand from various monarchs, high priests, and the wealthiest powers in the world. It is one of the reasons why I travelled to Generasi the hard way.”

He paused, giving a little shrug. “Also, my parents thought the journey would build my character. They thought that seeing more of the world—while accompanied by a contingent of guards—would be good for developing it.”

“Well, you have enough character for everybody, my friend,” Alex said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Thank you, my friend.” The prince smiled contentedly.

“That’s why I’m sure, you’re going to make Sinope happy, she just better make you happy.” Alex drained his tankard. “Or else.”

Khalik, Thundar and Claygon burst out laughing, though the golem’s mirth sounded stilted. “Threats…now that is a joke I understand.”

However, Isolde was not laughing. Instead, she looked troubled. Very troubled.

“Khalik…I am happy for you, but was your timing wise?” she asked. “Your parents…could they not demand an end to your engagement if they disapprove? I worry that would break Sinope’s heart.”

“Solving that is simple, Isolde.” Khalik took a long sip from his tankard. “I would simply tell them no.”

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