Tales of Golmeira- The Complete Box Set Read online

  ‘What’s happening?’ she asked, as she sat down beside her friend Bedrun, a plump, fair-haired girl of similar age.

  ‘Visitors!’ said Bedrun. ‘Bodel came in from Highcastle village and said that a huge procession has been seen on the main highway. Five carriages and at least a hundred horses, so they say. Don’t you know who they are, oh Royal One?’

  ‘It’s probably something really dull,’ Zastra said with a laugh.

  ‘A hundred horses, dull? How can you say such a thing?’

  ‘Depends who’s riding them,’ said Zastra. ‘Remember last year, when those science masters visited from the Far Isles? We got all excited only for Father to cancel the Moonscross holiday in favour of some tedious lectures. What were they? I can’t even remember.’

  ‘Theory and practical uses of lenses,’ said Bedrun, with a groan. ‘I never want to see another telescope, ever.’

  The two girls looked at each other in dismay.

  ‘It couldn’t be,’ said Zastra, at length.

  ‘What’s the use of being Grand Marl Leodra’s daughter if you don’t know what’s going on?’ said Bedrun, prodding her friend in the arm.

  ‘Fine,’ said Zastra, ‘I’ll ask Mother at lunchtime.’

  As soon as morning lessons finished, Zastra rushed up the three flights of stairs to her mother’s quarters in the royal tower. As she barged through the door, she found Anara busy relaying instructions to the household servants.

  ‘Oh, Zastra, good,’ said Anara, ‘I need to talk to you. Wait there, my dear.’

  Zastra fidgeted while her mother completed the dull business of household management. After what seemed like an age, Anara dismissed the servants departed and they were alone.

  ‘What’s going on?’ asked Zastra, bursting with impatience. ‘Who’s coming?’

  ‘Your Uncle Thorlberd, Marl of Bractaris, and your cousin Rastran, shortly to be followed by the rest of the Grand Assembly. It seems that your uncle is bringing his entire personal guard and several other retainers. I have no idea how I shall fit them all in, especially when all the other marls arrive.’

  ‘The Grand Assembly?’

  ‘You should know by now, Zastra, that every two years the marls meet to discuss the laws of Golmeira. Your father has proposed some serious changes, for which we need the agreement of a majority of the assembly. However, it will be difficult – there are a lot of marls who are resistant to anything new.’

  ‘Sounds boring.’

  ‘It is very important, Zastra. You need to begin to understand these things.’

  Zastra looked at her mother closely. Anara seemed unusually pale and flustered.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

  ‘Wrong? Why do you say that? Nothing is wrong. I’m just extremely busy trying to prepare everything. Now, sit down and listen to me. You must try very hard to make a good impression, particularly with your uncle. Thorlberd’s support is vital to us, especially at present. Your cousin Rastran will be fifteen years old now, but he was a shy young thing when I last saw him. His mother, your Aunt Jintara, has stayed at Bractaris expecting a baby, so he may lonely. Please make him feel welcome.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ said Zastra. ‘How long is the assembly?’

  ‘Usually no more than a few days.’

  ‘What about my uncle? How long is he staying?’

  ‘As long as he wishes,’ replied Anara, turning quietly away. ‘Now go back to your lessons. I have much to do.’

  Zastra left, a little disconcerted. Her mother was always so organised and capable; it was odd to see her so unsettled by visitors. But then all the marls and their servants would be a lot to deal with. At least they weren’t going to be subjected to any boring lectures. Zastra went down to the kitchens, where the other pupils were having lunch, and searched out Bedrun.

  ‘It’s my uncle, the Marl of Bractaris, and my cousin,’ she whispered. ‘And then all the other marls for the Grand Assembly.'

  ‘Oooh, how exciting!’ exclaimed Bedrun. ‘I wonder if there’ll be a banquet. Do you think I’ll be invited?’

  ‘Of course,’ replied Zastra. ‘You’re friends with the grand marl’s daughter after all. It has to count for something.’

  The two girls spent the rest of their lunch break discussing the joys of the potential banquet, in particular whether there would be acrobats, or maybe even fire-fountains.

  The next morning, Zastra and Bedrun were delighted to find that lessons had been cancelled. They climbed to the top of the northwest tower to watch the guests as they arrived. From there they had a clear view of the courtyard and the main gate. Golmer Castle was situated at the highest point of a gently rolling landscape and they could see the procession as it emerged from Highcastle Forest to the east and entered the outer ramparts. A large entourage of soldiers and finely dressed courtiers escorted three ebony carriages. As the procession passed under the large archway of the main gate and into the sunlit courtyard, the clattering of horses’ hooves echoed around the balconies. The leading coach bore a double crest on the door: a silver gecko alongside the golden hawk of Golmeira. The gecko reflected the sunlight as the door opened.

  ‘That must be my uncle,’ said Zastra, as a tall man, heavyset and dressed in black, exited the carriage and strode toward the stone steps that led up to the entrance of the great hall. Zastra’s mother and father stood waiting to greet him.

  ‘And who’s that handsome young man coming out of the other side of the carriage?’ asked Bedrun, leaning over the lip of the balcony to try and get a better look.

  ‘Oh, that’ll be my cousin, Rastran,’ replied Zastra confidently, although in truth she had no idea what he looked like. She was less impressed than Bedrun, not impressed with the way the youth yanked a cloak brusquely from one of the attendants.

  ‘He looks grumpy,’ she muttered.

  ‘Oh, you never seem to be bothered with boys, but I think he’s gorgeous,’ said her friend with a sigh.

  ‘Let’s go and meet them.’ Zastra grabbed her friend by the hand and led her down the stairs. They hurried along to the large state room into which the visitors had just been ushered.

  ‘Ah, Zastra, there you are at last,’ said Leodra. ‘Come and meet your Uncle Thorlberd and your cousin, Rastran.’

  Zastra put forward her best bow, greeting the guests with ceremonious politeness as she had been taught. Her uncle’s resemblance to her father was clear, but everything about Thorlberd was on a grander scale. He had broader shoulders, darker eyebrows and a thicker beard and he dominated the room with his powerful bulk. Rastran hovered behind his father, flicking an occasional look at his cousin from behind a long black fringe.

  ‘Well, Zastra,’ said her uncle in a deep bass voice, ‘you have certainly grown since I last saw you. And where are your new brother and sister?’

  ‘Here they are,’ said Anara, just as the nurse brought the twins, one on each arm. ‘Kastara and Findar, meet your uncle and cousin.’ The babies remained deeply unimpressed. Findar was asleep and Kastara was distracted by the much more fascinating glow of the hanging jula-oil lamps.

  ‘Well, Anara, they are quite as beautiful as you, my dear,’ said Thorlberd, leaning over them in undisguised admiration. ‘We must hope that these babes grow to be great mindweavers, given the disappointing news of Zastra’s test.’ He gave Zastra a hard, searching look. Was he trying to read her mind? Despite her still raw feelings, Zastra held her chin up and returned her uncle’s stare. Behind him, she saw her cousin lift his top lip in what could have been a sneer, and as she shifted her gaze to him he issued a self-satisfied snort. She glared at him and he coughed behind his hand.

  ‘Never mind cousin,’ he said with an air of condescension. ‘Not all of us can be blessed with abilities.’

  There was a short, stilted silence.

  ‘Zastra, will you and Bedrun please take the twins to the nursery,’ said Anara, allowing a grateful Zastra to leave as anger and shame heated her face.

  ‘Your c
ousin is dreamy!’ exclaimed Bedrun, not noticing her friend’s distress.

  ‘I hate him!’ snapped Zastra. ‘Nasty, slimy thing. You can have him if you want – why don’t you go back if you like him so much?’

  Bedrun looked startled and the twins both started crying in response to Zastra’s raised voice. Zastra was filled with instant remorse.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry!’ she said to the babies. ‘I’m not angry with you. Oh please, please stop crying.’ The two girls were able to eventually quieten the children, Zastra forgetting her anger in the process. Once the babies were settled, Zastra and Bedrun returned to the northwest tower to watch the rest of the marls arrive. They had never seen so many carriages before and it was late in the afternoon before the last coach had been safely stowed.

  That night, as anticipated, a banquet was held in honour of the visitors. Long tables had been spread down the great hall, which was already half-filled with elegantly dressed marls, both male and female, interspersed with soldiers, more sombrely clad in their dress uniforms. Across the short western wall, a network of jula-oil lamps with tinted glass panels cast rainbows of coloured light across the polished wooden floor. The balconies of the slanting north and south walls had been hung with silk flags, one for each marldom, unfurled especially for the occasion. Three pyramid-shaped skylights in the ceiling revealed stars, twinkling silver dots against the night sky. Zastra did not anticipate much pleasure in the evening, even though acrobats had been promised. She was not looking forward to facing her uncle and cousin again. She asked to be excused, but her mother insisted she attend.

  ‘We all must try our best,’ Anara said firmly, ending her protests before they had even begun.

  ‘Well can I at least wear my trousers and my soldier’s blouse?’ pleaded Zastra, who never liked getting dressed up for these occasions. Alas, her mother insisted she wear her best silk gown, which Zastra hated because it made her feel itchy and uncomfortable, as well as being a pale green colour which she didn’t like nearly as much as her vivid red soldier’s blouse. Anara also insisted on brushing Zastra’s dark chestnut hair forcefully, although, as usual, it refused to behave, unruly curls defying any attempts to arrange in a neat and tidy manner. Anara sighed in frustration.

  ‘If you wore it longer, it might sit better, my dear.’

  ‘But I like it short,’ stated Zastra vehemently. In the mirror, she saw her mother shake her head and smile. It was a familiar argument between them, one that Zastra always won.

  Bedrun came to dress in her friend’s quarters and when the gong sounded they went down to the banquet together. The buzz of conversation quieted as chairs were scraped back and everyone took their seats. Zastra was highly displeased to discover that she had been seated next to Rastran, with Bedrun sent off to another table. Anara gave Zastra a significant look. With a sigh, she attempted to make conversation with her cousin.

  ‘It must have been a long journey from Bractaris. How many days have you been travelling?’ she asked politely.

  ‘Oh, not much, barely more than a half-month.’

  ‘Don’t you miss your mother? I think I would, very much.’

  ‘I suppose I might, if I were still a child like you. But I’m practically a grown-up now and it doesn’t bother me at all.’

  ‘Well, I’ve heard you’ll be coming to our lessons tomorrow, so somebody must think you still belong with us children,’ said Zastra, annoyed by his haughty tone.

  ‘Yes, well, that may be so,’ responded Rastran, ‘but I’m still consulted on all major plans.’

  ‘What sort of plans?’ said Zastra, with an exaggerated expression of interest. ‘Like what to wear for this party? Very important things like that, I suppose.’

  The servants brought out the first course. Rastran leaned towards Zastra, smirking.

  ‘So, cousin, it’s a shame you failed the test so dismally. Mind you, it’s not surprising, given that Leodra is the same way. It seems all the abilities have fallen to our side of the family. I suppose you know that I passed the test and have been practicing mindweaving for ages.’ He waved his left hand in front of her face, a large silver ring on his little finger. ‘See, I have my mindweaver ring.’

  ‘Actually no one has ever mentioned you at all,’ replied Zastra. ‘We have much more important things to do here, you know – running the country and everything.’

  ‘Maybe you should pay more attention to things outside this castle,’ sneered her cousin.

  At this moment a young servant boy brought out a large bowl of soup, which he began serving to the guests. Rastran, not noticing, raised his arm and jolted the ladle. A small spatter of soup splashed onto his sleeve.

  ‘Clumsy idiot!’ he screeched at the cowering boy. ‘Look at the mess you’ve made of my new silk shirt. I’ll have the cost out of your wages, you incompetent flekk.’

  ‘Maybe you should pay more attention to things under your own nose,’ Zastra remarked.

  He turned towards her. ‘Where on earth did you pick up such a fool, cousin? Such a dolt would never be employed in Bractaris. I shall have him dismissed at once.’

  Zastra glared at her cousin. ‘Only my mother or father can dismiss staff at Golmer Castle. I guess there are things that you don’t know, even if you are a mindweaver. Thank you, Durrian,’ she continued, as the boy served her, his hand shaking so much that the ladle clinked against her bowl. ‘Don’t worry, I shall tell my father it was an accident and you shall not be blamed.’ Zastra very rarely dropped her father’s name, but on this occasion, she felt justified.

  They ate the soup in angry silence. As the plates were cleared away and the next course was brought in, Rastran cleared his throat.

  ‘You seem very familiar with the servants.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, that dolt over there – you knew his name – Dirtinian, or something like that?’

  ‘His name is Durrian. Yes, I know all the servants’ names. Why shouldn’t I? They are people, after all.’

  ‘People! Oh, little cousin Zastra how stupid you are. Servants are servants. No wonder yours are such a terrible lot. I only wish we could have brought more from Bractaris, but Father said we could only bring the most essential things. I’ve had to do without my boot polisher for example. It’s quite shocking. Makes it hard to keep up a decent appearance.’

  ‘Yes, indeed,’ said a well-dressed lady, one of the Bractarian party, who was seated just down the table from Rastran. ‘My Lord Rastran always makes such a handsome figure, and so elegant.’

  Zastra nodded towards the lady. ‘What’s her essential function? Flatterer in Chief? I’m not sure you need her, since you have such a high opinion of yourself.’

  ‘Don’t try to be clever,’ said Rastran. ‘You make fun of me, but Golmer Castle is the real joke. To think I’ll have to share lessons with children of footmen and grooms. It’s not as if they need to read and write. They only need to know how to obey orders. All the other marls agree that education for everyone is a ridiculous idea.’

  Zastra was shocked. She had always taken lessons with all the other children in the castle. She had no idea that this was unusual in any way.

  ‘My mother insists on it. She says everyone deserves the same chance.’

  ‘Well, she would, wouldn’t she?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Oh, only that she’s not really of noble birth, is she? Some distant poor relation who managed to snag a grand marl.’

  ‘Don’t you dare talk about my mother like that,’ said Zastra, slamming her spoon down on the table.

  They spent the rest of the meal in mutual silence, which to Zastra’s mind was preferable to further conversation with her cousin.

  As the after-dinner drinks were being served, many of the guests left their seats and moved around the hall. Bedrun came over and sat next to Zastra, looking at Rastran in open admiration.

  ‘Well, cousin, who is this pretty little thing?’ he said, pleased by the attention. />
  ‘This is my friend Bedrun,’ said Zastra shortly.

  ‘Hello,’ said Bedrun with a shy smile. Rastran ignored her, eyeing Zastra balefully.

  ‘No, I mean who is she? Who are her parents, what is her line of descent?’

  ‘Her mothers are Morel and Bodel. Morel is a lieutenant in the Household Guard and Bodel is a healer in Highcastle village.’

  ‘Yes…’ began Bedrun, but he had already turned away, deliberately and with calculated rudeness, and begun talking to a finely dressed lady of the Bractaris party. The slight caught the two girls completely by surprise. A flush spread across Bedrun’s plump face.

  ‘Come on Bedrun,’ said Zastra firmly, ‘he’s not worth bothering with. They obviously enjoy being rude in Bractaris. Let’s go and see the acrobats.’

  They went to see the show, but Zastra could see her friend was very upset and she seethed at her cousin’s rudeness. She could say with confidence that she had never met such a horrible person in all her life. Luckily, the show was a great spectacle and both the girls were soon revived by the athletic acrobats. Bedrun leaned over. ‘I like the young fair-haired one,’ she whispered. ‘What a lovely face he has and such bravery.’

  Zastra had to smile. She was used to Bedrun switching her admiration from one object to another but this was surely a new record. ‘Indeed,’ she agreed, ‘much nicer than pasty-faced boys who mooch about like snooty stick insects.’

  ‘Rastran the Rotten, he should be called!’ giggled Bedrun. The girls continued to contrast the attributes of the young acrobat with the boy from Bractaris. By the end of the evening, their spirits were recovered completely. They were disappointed when Anara told them it was time for them to go to bed. Zastra tried to argue that it was early and that they were nearly grown-ups, but her mother was firm.

  ‘Say goodnight to your uncle and cousin and then go to your room. You have lessons tomorrow as usual.’