If there’s one thing that Alex really hates, then it is being the centre of attention. Being paraded through the streets of Tanis, with an escort of the King’s guards is more than he can ever be comfortable with. All these pairs of eyes following him is really unnerving. Besides, even though he's done nothing wrong, the populous don’t know that and will inevitably think the worst. It’s so easy to imagine that they think him a criminal, on his way to the castle and an uncertain fate.

The captain won’t even give his name and seems positively antagonistic when Alex tries to engage him in casual conversation, leaving a somewhat uncomfortable silence. Perhaps the King’s reputation is well-founded after all. Right now, Alex isn’t sure that he wants to know for sure.

As they approach the great main gate, the gate guard steps smartly aside to allow the group to walk straight in to the courtyard. It’s a large space, but takes only seconds to cross at their brisk walk. The captain leads the group up the main steps to the heavy oak door of the castle which seems to open as if by enchantment as they get close. The four other guardsmen step to either side once they enter the vast hallway and the captain and Alex proceed alone.

Alex has never been inside the castle, but the layout thus far is plain enough. There’s another great door at the end of the passageway, with other passages leading off to the left and right. The captain stops just before they get to the large door at the end, gesturing to a table against the wall to the side.

“You may not carry a weapon in the presence of the King,” he tells Alex firmly.

“Of course, Captain.” Alex unbuckles his belt and places the sword and scabbard on the ornate silver tray that sits on top of the table. He slips a knife out of each sleeve and places the matched pair of stilettos on the same tray.

“All weapons!” the captain tells him simply as Alex senses the tiniest hint of magic being used.

Reluctantly, Alex lifts his left trouser leg and removes the boot-knife from its sheath at his ankle. Finally, when the captain looks at him sternly and raises an eyebrow, he removes the flexible spring-steel blade from the waistband of his linen tunic and places this alongside the others.

“You have steel-sense, Captain,” he mutters. “A useful skill for a King’s guard.”

“Just so, Sir,” the captain replies firmly. There’s just the hint of a smile on his lips as he watches Alex’s slight discomfort. “Come, Varga, let us not keep his Majesty waiting any longer.” He steps up to the massive door, knocks and enters without a pause.

Alex isn’t sure quite what he expected to be on the other side of the great door, but it wasn’t this large yet comfortable mix of office and library. The room has bookshelves on three walls and a large fireplace on the fourth. High windows light the space on two sides. In the centre of the room is a large desk, papers scattered across it in what at first looks like disarray, but on closer inspection seems to be some form of complicated research.

There are two comfortably upholstered, richly carved chairs on the near side of the desk and a much more comfortable, slightly higher-backed chair opposite. Sitting in the larger chair is a man in his late middle years, hair now speckled with grey through its original chestnut brown. He has a small circlet of gold that fits tightly to his brow and is finely dressed in dark blue silk, finely tailored to a modern cut with gold threaded embroidery on the sleeves and collar.

The captain and Alex stand side by side in the centre of the room until the King looks up, dropping the paper he is reading down onto the desk gently.

“Alexion Varga, Sire.” The captain says with a formal bow to his King.

Alex remembers his manners after a moment and bows just as formally. “Sire.”

The King accepts their respect with the slightest nod of his own head before he pushes his chair back with a slight scrape and appears to relax.

“Thank you, Captain Alta. You may leave us.”

“Sire?”

“It’s fine, Captain. Please wait outside.”

“Yes, Sire.”

It’s pretty clear to Alex that Alta doesn’t want to leave his King alone with anyone, not least Alex himself. Perhaps Alex was a little bit too quick to antagonise the officer. He seems completely honest and loyal to his lord and was, after all, only doing a job that a lesser rank could have done.

As soon as he closes the door softly behind himself, the demeanour of the king changes subtly, becoming instantly less formal and more relaxed. “Alex, isn’t it? Please, sit down and relax, young man.”

“Forgive me, Sire,” Alex tells the King as he sits stiffly and carefully in the nearest of the two chairs. “Your reputation precedes you.”

“So I believe. It is more the reputation of my late father than it is my own, Alex. Sadly, such reputations are sometimes necessary to maintain peace and stability. But I’m sure I don’t have to tell you this. Your reputation also precedes you.”

“I’m not sure whether to be flattered that you are aware of my reputation, or terrified by the thought that I have one.”

“Well, I must admit to having only a passing interest in your career, young man. It’s part of my job to be aware of the trade through my lands and that extends to the guards who make that trade flow. In your case, that’s just enough to know that you do the job you are paid to do and have never started a single unprovoked fight – not even just last evening. There is also much said to the effect that you are lucky. I like that in a man.”

“How do you know about last evening… Erm… Sire?”

“It is also my job as King to know much of what happens in my city. Your friend the innkeeper is a good man, but he does have a reputation for leaving unconscious men on the side of the street. I receive a report from the constables each morning. They hear quickly about any minor altercations.”

“Bertran prefers to stop any trouble before it can start. But, as you already know, I didn’t start a fight yesterday.”

“No, indeed. By all accounts, you tried your very hardest to avoid a fight. You may be unique in your trade, Alex.”

“How so, Sire?”

“Your past exploits show that you are good at your job – very good indeed – but that you appear to be beyond the corruption and back-stabbing nature of many of your fellow guards for hire.”

“I assure you, Sire, it is purely a matter of self-preservation. I find myself suited to the work, and have reasons to be drawn to the job, but I have a desire to live a long life that isn’t compatible with rashness or with the breaking of a contract.”

“And that, young man, brings us nicely to the point of you being here today.”

“It does, Sire?”

“I wish to hire you to lead a small expedition for me. I am not going myself, but I need to be sure that some of the party have all the protection they need without sending a whole army along with them.”

“I have questions, Sire. I’d need to know much more before making such a contract.”

“Of course. Please, ask your questions now. If you feel you cannot fulfil the contract, now will be the time to say so.

“I understand, Sire. Firstly, how many people?”

“Six, including yourself. Captain Alta, two of my guards, of his choosing, and two travellers.”

“The travellers are civilians? Male or female?”

“Yes, civilians, both male. A young man and a man of middle years.”

“And the proposed destination of this erm… Expedition, Sire?”

“The city of Eridan and safely back to Tanis. I understand you have been to the west of the continent before.”

“Yes, sire. It is a long and potentially hazardous journey. I’m not sure I can commit so much time to such an enterprise.” The thought of a journey of several weeks isn’t exactly what Alex had in mind for the moment. After two long back-to-back jobs, he was looking for something lighter and shorter.

The King sits in silence for several moments while he thinks about this. Alex is happy to let him do so, also deep in thought. He does actually have the time, but he needs to know more and simply doesn’t know how to ask the right questions. There’s not much in Eridan, the city of the West.

“Perhaps the proposed fee for your services will help you to decide?” the King asks after a pregnant silence.

“Perhaps, Sire. What do you propose?”

“Two thousand in gold. Half now and half on your successful return,” the King suggests.

“I see, Sire. Such a fee is more than acceptable, but I’m afraid that it brings more questions than answers. The fee suggests there is more to the journey than meets the eye?”

“Aye, your reputation is not unfounded, Varga, and your insight serves you well. We have a dilemma, however. If I tell you more, you may still refuse the contract and I will then have told you things in confidence that I cannot have revealed to anyone outside this castle.”

“I give you my word of confidentiality, Sire. On my life!”

“And I will hold you to it, young man.” Again the King falls silent in contemplation for a minute or more. Only the rhythmic ticking of a mechanical timepiece on the mantel breaks the silence. Alex hadn’t noticed it before, but now each click rings loudly in his ears.

At last, the King speaks once more. “Your final destination is a short journey west of Eridan, high in the mountains, on the slopes of Mount Eridus. It will be difficult and, I must confess, potentially dangerous.”

“There’s little to the west of Eridan. Except…” Alex falls silent as the realization of their destination dawns upon him. “Surely not, Sire?”

“Yes, young man. You are to seek out the Flame of the West and return with it.”

“But only royalty, a male of royal blood with the gift of magic, can possess the Flame?” Tales surrounding this legendary and magical jewel abound, popular with most storytellers and children everywhere.

“Your knowledge of the subject is correct. The young man you will protect is my son, Prince Jamethon.”

“And the other civilian?”

“Catheon, my son’s tutor.”

“I have heard of the man. He is considered one of the greatest scholars of the age. He teaches your son?”

“Yes, but not formally now that my son is of age. He has been his tutor since Jamie was a small boy. They are close friends and continue their studies only for pleasure now.”

“Neither of them has travelled outside of the palace?”

“My son, no. Catheon is originally from Eridan. His insight into the region will perhaps serve you well, but he has not travelled there for perhaps twenty years and much may have changed.”

Once again, silence falls between the two men. Alex needs time to think, to weigh the pros and cons of such a contract, but knows that the King will not give him endless time to decide. Still, for a minute or two the King seems content to sit and let him think.

Again his thoughts play out to the quiet ticking of the clock on the mantel. He rises carefully to his feet and walks over to examine it more closely. Such devices are quite rare, yet he has seen several before and recognises the workings of it. This is a particularly fine example, worked in gold, silver and cased in black ironwood. The points that mark the hours on the dial are eleven small emeralds, all a flawless green and about the size of a pea. The top marker is a double, separating it from the other nine hours of the day.

Finally, as he hears a slight movement from the King, possibly the first sign of impatience, he turns and speaks. “I accept the contract, with one clear condition.”

“And what is that one condition?”

“That I am in charge. I am to be obeyed by all the members of the party without question. I won’t take orders from the captain or anyone else.”

“Accepted.”

The King opens the middle drawer of his desk and withdraws a two large leather purses. He stands slowly, revealing that he is at least as tall as Alex himself and still firm and athletic despite his middle years. He takes two steps towards Alex and holds out his right hand to shake on the contract.

As Alex grasps his hand firmly, the king calls out, loud enough to be heard beyond the study. “Captain, will you step in?”

Alta steps into the room and stops at the door to bow again. The King once more acknowledges his obeisance and hands the purses to Alex with another nod. “Ah, Captain. Can you be ready to leave in two days or so?”

“Yes, Sire. I have already chosen the men to accompany us. We just need to prepare the horses and gather our equipment.”

“Master Varga, I would like you to spend the time before your departure in the castle, if you have no objection. You need to get to know your fellow travellers before you leave. Do you have anything that you need to finalize before you go?”

“I do, Sire. If I may be permitted to return to the inn and retrieve my belongings?”

“Certainly. Captain, will you arrange for a couple of guards to accompany Master Varga? Perhaps the men you have chosen?”

“Yes, of course, Sire. If I may go and organise that now?”

“You may leave, Captain. Thank you.”

Once the captain has left and closed the door behind him, the King continues. “I trust that you and the captain will get along?”

“I believe so, Sire. He seems competent and his steel-sense is a very useful trait to have.”

“Yes, in these uncertain times, a little magic goes a long way, doesn’t it, Varga.”

“As His Majesty says.”