Published: 7 Oct 2019

Castle MacLachlan

Orion’s stamina brings them to the castle before nones. The drawbridge is down, but so is the portcullis. Alexis reins in Orion halfway across the drawbridge. He amplifies his voice with magic, and calls, “Hello the castle! Alexis of Arcadia and his companion, the boy Rudy of Barrone, ask the hospitality of The MacLachlan.”

A head appears on the battlements. Rudy feels no ping of a truth-spell, but a boyish voice says, “Say again your name and where you’re from. And do not lie.”

“Alexis of Arcadia and Rudy of Barrone,” Alexis replies.

“And do you swear amity with the Duke and his people?”

“We do,” Alexis says.

The portcullis begins to rise. Over the creaking of winches and screech of metal sliding in the grooves, the boys hear, “Be welcome in the name of Ivan, Duke.”

A score of armed tweens and men stand in the courtyard; however, their weapons are sheathed, and they are in a rather careless formation, if it were a formation, at all. One of the figures, a tall tween with ash-blond hair that falls over his forehead and curls around the nape of his neck steps forward and greets them. “Alexis, I heard that much, I am Alan. I sort of run the army, here. And you, you’re Rudy?”

Rudy nods. Alan continues. “Your horse – a Clydesdale – I thought I had the only one. He’s outstanding! Where did you get him?”

Alexis shakes Alan’s offered hand. “It’s a long story. The short version is that he was a gift from my mentor, who found him in Forrest Green.”

“The truth, and enough of the truth, but not all of it.” That is the voice of the boy from the ramparts who now stands next to Alan.

“Now, Cooper,” Alan says, gently, “he did say it was a long story. This is Cooper,” Alan adds. “His brother is Senior Cleric. Cooper is Senior Scamp.”

Cooper makes a face and sticks out his tongue, as if to confirm that he is the Senior Scamp, and then says, “You’re Rudy and you’re really cute. Will you share with me?”

“Thank you, Rudy, I would like that, but not tonight, please. Alexis and I have promised, already.”

“Tomorrow, then,” Cooper says. Without acknowledging the look on Rudy’s face, or waiting for an answer, he dashes up stairs that lead to the barbicans at the gate. Shortly, the portcullis lowers, accompanied by screeches and groans of metal-on-metal.

Why don’t they grease that thing? Alexis wonders.

Alexis and Rudy are offered a bath before being presented to the duke, so it is with clean clothes – including for Rudy a pair of worn chinos and one of Kevin’s T-shirts showing an eagle perched on an illegible Harley-Davidson logo – that they enter not the throne room but the kitchen. The duke is stirring a large pot of soup.

“Ivan? These boys came to visit. They are Alexis and Rudy. They’re both mages,” Cooper says. He hounded Alan until Alan had agreed Cooper might serve as escort.

He knows I used magic at the gate, but he also knows Rudy is a mage? Alexis wonders. Oh, yes. In the story, Cooper is the seventh son of a seventh son. No surprise he is able to suss that. Got to keep an eye on him, though. He doesn’t seem to be very circumspect about what he says.

The man who is cutting potatoes into the pot wipes his hands and gestures to Ivan. “Come on, lad, let’s see who we have here.”

Ivan releases the huge wooden spoon and steps down from the platform by the stove. “Hello, Alexis and Rudy. I am Ivan, and this is my regent’s father, Lord Silvanus. He’s teaching me how to cook. Are you going to stay for supper and the night? I made the soup. Well, I picked out what’s going into it, including the herbs.”

Alexis bows; Rudy copies the move. “Thank you, Your Grace,” Alexis says. “We would like to stay for supper. And there are important things we want to discuss with you, and with your regent and his father.”

Ivan claps his hands. “I’m glad you will stay. There are so few boys here. Rudy, do you play Knights and Trolls? I know all of Cooper’s strategies, and he knows all of mine.”

Rudy smiles. “I would like that, Your Grace.”

“Oh, pooh! Please don’t call me that, and certainly not when I’m in the kitchen!”

“Your soup has cardamom, and thyme. Also tarragon. That’s an interesting combination,” Alexis says.

“You can tell that from just the smell?” Lord Aaron asks.

“Yes, my Lord,” Alexis answers.

“Please, Aaron is sufficient,” that man says. “I don’t suppose you’d like to…?”

“Slice potatoes?” Alexis asks. “Of course. What may Rudy do?”

“I was thinking of a game of Knights and Trolls,” Aaron says. “I think you and I can finish the stew.”

He wants to get me alone, Alexis thinks. But his aura is bright; there’s no hint of treachery. I know these people are servants of the Light. Rudy will be safe. “Would you like that?” he asks Rudy. The boy nods.

Alexis slices potatoes into the cauldron while Aaron stirs. “Needs more salt, I think,” the man says.

Alexis sniffs. “Yes, about a half-cup I’d guess.”

The man nods, and pours salt into the pot before he resumes stirring. “You said you had things to discuss. Although my son is regent, he is young and often asks me for advice.”

Aaron sniffs the steam coming from the kettle. “Just the right amount of salt, I think. And, no more potatoes, please. I would not stand between you and Alan or Ivan; however, I would be comfortable knowing more about it, first. Perhaps an informal discussion over a stewpot?”

Alexis smiles. “Alan sees things as a puzzle. Rudy and I are a puzzle I’d rather he not try to pull apart, not yet. There are other things that are more important. I would be happy to tell you what I know, in the hope you would smooth the way. Which reminds me, why don’t you grease the portcullis?”

Rather than answer, Aaron says, “Do you see that basket of cilantro? Ivan selected it, but wanted it added near the end of the cooking. Would you rinse a peck or so and toss it in?

“About the portcullis,” Aaron says as Alexis works. “I was wondering when a visitor would ask that question. You, like Alan, look at things with an inquiring mind. One of the things you can tell me is how you knew that about Alan. The portcullis? Well, it’s said this castle has only been taken by treachery and a noisy portcullis might warn against treachery.”

“Although, it was not treachery when Alan and his companions, under the leadership of Patrick, found their way through mines and dungeons into the lower levels of this castle,” Alexis says. He sees Aaron’s frown, and then adds, “I gather this is still secret?”

Aaron sniffs the stew again. “The cilantro is just enough. I argued with the boy about that, but he was most insistent. He was right.

“How do you know how they got into the castle?”

“That is part of what I want to talk about,” Alexis says.

“I said at the gate I am from Arcadia. I am also a student. You certainly knew my master, the Mage Corbus, of Arcadia. He occasionally attended the court. It was from him I learned the story of the restoration of Castle MacLachlan to the rightful Duke. It was a powerful story, a story of Light triumphant against the Dark. It is a story that will be told for many years to inspire boys to live in the Light.”

Aaron nods. “Indeed, I was a member of the prince’s privy council, then. In fact, I think I still am, although I’m a little out of touch, here. I knew your master. I am surprised, however, that the story has been told so quickly.”

“And more widely than either you or the prince may know,” Alexis says. “It is written in a book. A magical book.”

Alexis describes the Book of Heroes. “There still are parts of the book that are not open to me. There are pages I cannot open, even with magic.

“One of the stories I read is about Alan’s injury on a hunting trip, his subsequent healing by the elf, Patrick, and their adventures, culminating with the ceremony in which they are knighted and sent on separate missions on the orders of Prince Auric.”

“Hmm,” Aaron says. “Probably didn’t paint a very flattering picture of me.”

Alexis grins, “Not at first, but before the story ends you are shown to be a most caring father.”

“It seems,” Aaron says, “you are privy to things perhaps in detail, perhaps in imagination, that others do not know.”

“Yes. And, so is Rudy, for before the book came to my world, he wrote it. Yet, he does not know all he needs to write the book. It’s rather hard to explain…”

That Aaron is Alan’s father is proven then. “It’s a puzzle,” Aaron says. “And one that I would share with Alan before telling him the solution.”

He smiles at Alexis. “Oh, yes. I have sussed the solution, but I would like Alan to have the same opportunity.”

Supper is more than Ivan’s soup. On the other side of the kitchen, a crew had been busy baking bread and a strawberry cobbler. The caravaneers had arrived, and are also at the tables.

That night, Alexis and Rudy have a room to themselves. As they undress, Alexis asks, “How did you and Ivan and Cooper get along? Who won the game?”

Rudy climbs into bed and snuggles against Alexis. “Ivan and I let Cooper win. At least, I’m pretty sure Ivan deliberately missed a couple of opportunities. When I saw that, I did the same thing. It seemed to mean a lot to Cooper, and to be of no consequence to Ivan. I hope I did the right thing.”

“For a first game, you probably did. However, Cooper cannot always win, or he will never learn the difficult lessons he must learn,” Alexis says.

“One thing he learned is how to get his way,” Rudy says. “He was most insistent we share tomorrow night. He is apparently a sembler – even though he’s just a boy – so I couldn’t lie to him and say I was already promised, even though I would like always to be promised to you.”

Alexis shushes him with a kiss, and then says, “I think you will find Cooper to be a fun partner. Go with him, tomorrow. I will invite Alan. We can talk about our horses.” Alan and Alexis had spent some time in the stables talking about their Clydesdales, and Alexis knows Alan wants to talk more.

“Talk about your horses. Right,” Rudy says, stretching out the last word, and then giggles.

The next day, Rudy, Ivan, and Cooper are immersed in a giggly game of Knights and Trolls. Across the room, Ivan’s regent, Alan, sits with his father and Alexis.

“Alexis,” Aaron says. “Cooper, who is perhaps the most sensitive of us, says you are good and true. Still, my son’s commission from our liege prince is most serious and most important. We expect to face powers of darkness unlike anything seen in this age. Please, help us know how to deal with them – and you.”

Alexis sits, thinking. Yesterday, Aaron seemed to understand. Ah, he is pretending, for Alan’s sake. He’s giving me a chance to justify myself to his son who as regent for Duke Ivan is more powerful than his own father. Alan will explain things to Duke Ivan, who is a cute boy playing a game with two boys, one of whom is perhaps the greatest storyteller and mage of all worlds and times, and one who is an important unknown, for Cooper is, indeed, an unknown.

Alexis speaks slowly, choosing his words carefully. “Alan,” he begins. “I ask your discretion in what I am about to say.

“There are more worlds than this one. Sometimes people from this world and others interact. Some of those interactions are recorded in stories on this world.

“Rudy is from this world, yet, he was at least once removed from this world, to return under unusual circumstances. Rudy writes stories. He has written a story about you and your companions – a story all of whose details even you may not know. He has written other stories of Light facing Darkness, stories that occurred thousands of years in the past, as well as stories that may not happen for thousands of years to come.

“I am convinced Rudy’s stories are real, and what he has written has happened, and what he will write will happen.

“This is not to say that everything in Rudy’s stories is the literal truth. He often has to use imagination to fill in gaps. On the other hand, that which is important is reported exactly and factually.”

Alan speaks when Alexis pauses for breath. “When I was growing up, my father often read stories to me. Some were parables: stories that are not true, but which, nevertheless, have important lessons. Some were histories, including stories that only might have happened but which, true or not, shaped our culture. Some were almost certainly true, but had been warped by aeons into fables. I understand what you are saying.

“My former companions, Patrick and James knew stories. Though Patrick is an elf, and James from western Arcadia, they were often surprised I knew the same stories. Although the cores of these stories are identical, sometimes they had a different ending, a different moral, a different meaning. We had a lot of fun talking about that.” Alan’s eyes unfocus as he thinks of his friends, the ones from whom he was separated by the prince’s orders.

“At this moment, here at this castle, in this world and time,” Alexis says, “I believe we are all in the middle of one of those stories – one that involves you and us and who knows who else.

“Some, perhaps all, of Rudy’s stories are compiled in The Book of Heroes. My master had a copy, which he gave me. What is most remarkable is that we cannot open the book to all of its stories. There is a spell on it whose magic is strong enough to keep us from reading things we should not read. Even Rudy, who wrote it, cannot read it all.”

“Things you should not read?” Alan says. The notion appeals to his love of puzzles.

“Yes, and I see that you find a puzzle to be solved,” Alexis says. “Your skill with puzzles appears in at least one story that I’ve read.”

“Of course,” Alan says. “Stories that would happen in your future, you should not read, for knowledge of the future is dangerous. Also, stories that contain secrets to which you are not entitled, you should not read.”

“That is the correct solution, I think,” Alexis says. Aaron nods.

“Early in my apprenticeship,” Alexis says, “my master told me my destiny was to explore World. He trained me, or brought in tutors to train me in many arts. He gave me a Claymore sword that had belonged to his great-great-grandsire. It was not until recently that I was able to read the story of Alan and Patrick, and the restoration of the MacLachlan. At once, I thought that I might become a hero much like Alan.”

Alexis pointedly ignores Alan’s blush.

“Like Alan, I would ride a Clydesdale horse, which my master procured. I think he had read the stories, and selected a Clydesdale, deliberately.”

Alan blushes more furiously.

“You are a wonderful model,” Alexis says. Alan blushes more.

“Following the instructions in the book, I came to the woods north of here and waited for Rudy to come through a gate. That’s the short version; obviously, there are details I’ve left out.”

“I do wish Patrick were here,” Alan says. “He would be able to explain all this.”

“Patrick is not, however,” Aaron says. “So, we must explain it, ourselves. Who might help us?”

“James and Greyeyes, of course,” Alan says. “I’ll send for them. They’re at Fairview,” he adds. “That’s a day’s ride south.”

“They will not be here for at least three days,” Aaron says. “What shall we do in the meanwhile?”

“Learn all we can from Alexis,” Alan says. He turns to Alexis. “We’ve run around the tree several times. What you have said is quite interesting. Perhaps, however, it’s time to talk about what you think is most important?”

Alexis nods, and begins. “One of the stories tells of four boys who are somewhere in the south of Arcadia when they hear the sound of the Sword of The MacLachlan falling into Ivan’s hand. Shortly after that, they hear what they first think is an echo – but it is a dark echo.

“They believe, and I think they’re right, that the first sound, the sound of Light, was balanced by a sound from something Dark. The problem arises because both sounds are from this direction – northwest of where they are. Both sounds are of similar strength.”

Alan interrupts. “Whatever the evil thing is, it’s near us and near equal in power to the sword,” he says. “It could be weaker than the magic of Ivan’s sword, and not near us; it could be stronger, and farther away. But, if we are to believe that things balance, something Patrick talked a lot about, then near us is the most logical answer.”

Alexis nods. “That is the conclusion I reached, although it took me somewhat longer than it did you. I believe one of my missions is to warn you; the other is to return Rudy to his home in Barrone. After that? I do not know.”

“And you know all this through stories,” Alan says. “Before you take Rudy to Barrone, will you share those stories with us?”

Alexis nods. “All we can. And, I ask you to share your stories with Rudy. There are things about you he has written, but which he does not yet know.”

Rudy is anxious to return to Barrone, but he understands. The things I learn from these people will become the stories that Alexis thinks are so important. I must learn more so I can tell the stories. I must also learn why Alexis believes them to be so important.

“You and the other boys were very much involved in the game,” Alexis says as he scrubs Rudy. “Who won?”

“I did,” Rudy says. “Ivan seemed to want Cooper to win, but I remembered what you said, and played an honest game. Ivan lost; Cooper came in second. It didn’t seem to bother either one of them, much.

“Alexis, why is it so important I write the stories?”

“Rudy, do you play card games?”

“Yes, but where did that question come from?” Rudy giggles as he runs his soapy fingers through Alexis’s hair.

“It’s part of the answer to your question,” Alexis says. “In many card games, there’s an extra card, the Joker. The card has different roles in different games; still, it’s almost always a spoiler. The Joker can take on different aspects, but usually, it is the aspect of someone who can break the rules; someone who can be more powerful than expected; someone with unexpected talents; someone who can change everything without reason.

“I think that you and Cooper are Jokers.”

“But if we’re Good, isn’t it okay?” Rudy asks.

“That seems right, doesn’t it?” Alexis says. “But, I think, I believe, it’s never entirely right if a Joker does something that prevents reality from playing out, if a Joker becomes a deus ex machina—”

“ ‘Deus from a machine?’ What’s a deus? What’s a deus from a machine?” Rudy interrupts.

“Oh, sorry. Deus isn’t a word in Elvish. It’s something from elsewhere that my master taught me. It means a person who can break the laws of nature; think of it as a very powerful mage with no morals or rules to constrain him.

“In ancient dramas, when the playwright ran out of ideas, he might bring in a powerful figure who would use magic to solve all problems and bring the play to a conclusion. The figure usually descended onto the stage from above, through pulleys and ropes – a machine. It is a poor way to solve a problem. And, in this case, I’m afraid that you, Cooper, and perhaps I, have the potential for being that.

“Do you remember what I said about Cooper winning games too easily? I think that applies to us all – to our civilization. I think even if we could solve all the problems of our age, we would not be doing our age a favor.

“On the other hand, I think we – mostly you – can help our civilization without being a spoiler, by writing stories that will remind people there is Evil, that Evil people will always try to gain advantage over Good, that Evil will wage war with Good. I think that you can help by writing stories that inspire people to work and fight for that which is Good.”

Lunch at the castle is an informal affair. The kitchen staff sets out a buffet of meat, cheese, bread, and fruit. People come and go on their own schedule. Rudy and Alexis are surprised when they find a table set for a dozen people. When they enter the dining room, one of the soldiers asks them to go there.

Alan rises as they approach. “James and Greyeyes have returned. I thought you might want to meet them over a meal. Less formal, that way.”

Alexis nods. Rudy says, “James! We’ve met! At the inn, you were traveling with an elven boy. It’s been a few years. Perhaps you don’t remember.”

James stands and hugs Rudy. “I do remember. It was an inn that was there one moment, and not the next. Not likely I’d ever forget that. I remember, too, that you felt Kenneth’s blessing.”

Rudy returns James’s hug. “And Kenneth?” he asks. “Oh, I’m sorry!” he adds when he senses sorrow from James.

James smiles. “It’s okay, Rudy. You must have felt that, hmm?”

Rudy nods; James continues. “Kenneth was summoned to his father’s home in Carter, and from there to the court of the King of Elvenhold. He travels with stout and powerful companions, so I am not concerned for his safety. Still, I do miss him.

“Now,” James asks. “Who is your companion?”

Over lunch, Alexis and Rudy relate what is appropriate to say in public.

Alexis and Rudy cuddle while Rudy reads aloud the Old Elvish of the Book of Heroes. “This is the part about where I met Arthur and George, and their companions,” he says. “Sam and I were on the way to Agium to take a birth gift to Sam’s sister. We were stranded at an inn by a snowstorm for days and days. I still remember the first night, though.

Neither Sam nor Rudy see their own room that night. All the boys are glad for each other’s company. The storm through which they had ridden got stronger, and each of the boys woke more than once, to be glad for the closeness of the others.”

Rudy reads to the end of the page. “That’s where we left. They were going east; Sam and I continued west. Oh!” Rudy turns the page, and reads, “What—” George interrupts. He holds his left arm out horizontally, the palm turned down. It is the signal to stand silently. From the mountain in front of them a barely audible, deep rumbling becomes louder and then stops. Moments later, a white cloud rises into the sky and sparkles when it reaches the sunlight.

“Avalanche,’”George says, finally, breaking the silence. “Wonder if it’s blocked the road.”

Rudy looks up from the book. “I couldn’t know that!”

“But you did,” Alexis says. “You broke the spell there. I felt it. Why, do you think?”

“Because it’s something you already know; because it’s something I need to know; because, because there is chaos in the universe, otherwise there would be no place for free will. For all of these reasons, and more,” Rudy says.

Alexis nods. “I’ve had a long time to think about that question,” he says. “And managed to come up with only the first two answers. You found three, including the best one, instantly. Are you sure you’re just a boy?”

Rudy giggles, and then turns the page and continues reading.

An hour or so later, he exclaims, “Alexis! Look!” Rudy holds out the book. “It says that a powerful mage is watching and guiding Arthur and his companions.”

Alexis reads the passage.

In a nondescript stone house on the edge of an unnamed elven village, a mage puts a mirror face down on his workbench. “You saw?” he asks his apprentice. The boy nods. The mage continues. “They have reached a point beyond which I cannot guide them. They must now go their own way.”

“What Arthur thinks is destiny is actually a person.” Rudy interprets the passage.

“I’m not sure it’s as simple as that,” Alexis says. “It’s pretty clear that people who are Good and people who are Evil generate a force that provides energy for Good and Evil things to happen. It’s also important, when you wrote this – or will write this – you chose the Old Elvish word meaning to guide rather than to force or to lead or even, to take. That opens the question of how pervasive is this mage’s direction.

“The real question, I think, is this – is this mage watching us? Is he watching the boys at the castle? My guess is that his intentions are Good. Is he a joker? Is he a catspaw of someone even more powerful? Is this becoming circular?” Alexis laughs. “We could spend the rest of eternity asking those questions!”

Alexis then asks a rhetorical question. “Are we cats-paws? The only way to answer is to complete the book. However, I think we’ve learned – and shared – all we can, here. It’s time to move on.”

“To Barrone?” Rudy asks.

“Yes, but with a stop in Bowling Green. It’s on our way, and we will stay only long enough to rest Orion, and get you a horse.”

Alexis reads Rudy’s face. “You look disappointed.”

Rudy smiles. “I like it when you hold me when we’re riding. But you’re right. If we’re going to travel a long way, I should have my own horse. Do you suppose it will be a Clydesdale?”

This book wraps up many of the stories of World, though we hope it is not the last from the fertile mind of David. Let David know you are reading: David dot McLeod at CastleRoland dot net. He deserves your feedback.

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