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"Devon and Damien"Chapter 6: Act 1
The road to Garamont is a well-traveled one, a stone-paved road frequented by many coaches and wagons. Garamont had the distinction of being the most populated town in the kingdom, due to its renowned bazaar. Boasting one of the most successful and busiest outdoor marketplaces in the region, people from all over Hessea (and even Boria) would travel to Garamont to shop for the latest wares. Its location along the Gold River also provided for a thriving shipping industry. Thanks to the river, Garamond actually supplied various goods to four different nations. King Faleaon had once remarked that while Loria may be the kingdom’s capital city, Garamont was its most important. As if its commerce was not reason enough for its affluence, the city also served as home to the Holy Cathedral. While smaller churches were located throughout the kingdom, the Holy Cathedral was the chief parish in the nation… those who attended services there generally felt they were “more spiritual” than their counterparts in the smaller parishes. Father Hugh had been the cathedral’s priest for as long as anyone could remember. His influence was obviously impressive, and he was widely regarded as the unofficial “mayor” of Garamont. Although no one could say for sure, most thought that he even had a say in what businesses were allowed in city. For some reason, he had always taken a special interest in Devon Tristam. Devon could never quite understand why his attendance generated so much concern with the Reverend Father. When he was First General, Devon attended as many services as he possibly could. He always tried to play down his presence there, but any service in which he and Princess Joanna were in attendance always attracted lots of attention. He and Joanna also grew tired of the necessity of dining with the city’s aristocrats and nobles after the services. As soon as Father Hugh gave the closing prayer, numbers of city officials would lobby for their attention. “Milady, dine with us today,” they would beg. “Sir Tristam, we eagerly await your stories of valor and courage.” As he and Reklaw traveled on toward Garamont, Devon smiled, recalling many of their return trips to Loria after another uneventful lunch with an unexciting host; the two often shared many laughs at their hosts’ expense. One thing he always appreciated in Joanna was her desire for a “normal” life. While she did not dislike her royal upbringing, Joanna often expressed to Devon her desire to simply be a wife and mother. He often felt that his humble upbringing was one trait that had attracted him to her. “The thought of marrying a dignitary or nobleman must have sickened her,” he thought.
As the two men journeyed toward city of Garamont, Reklaw insisted on staying off of the main roads. His horse galloped several meters ahead of Devon at a constant pace. He said nothing, and kept his eyes focused straight ahead. Although in good physical shape, Devon was growing weary; he wiped the sweat from his brow and brought his steed to a halt. Sensing that his companion had stopped, Reklaw turned and frowned. “What are you doing? We haven’t time for this.” “You may not, but I do,” Devon muttered, running his hands through his hair. “I’m taking a five-minute break. If you want to leave, fine. This mission doesn’t concern you anyway.” “Excuse me?” Reklaw retorted, riding back towards Devon. Devon trotted his horse up to him and stared him in the eyes. “You’re the hired gun. The only reason His Majesty hired you is because he knew you’d…resort to questionable methods if needs be. From the moment I met you, you’ve treated me as some sort of liability… an annoyance. I never asked for your assistance, nor did I desire it.” Reklaw eyed his surroundings, obviously unaffected by Devon’s remarks. “Are you through? Night will fall soon, and I’d like to be in Garamont by then.” Devon shook his head, frustrated by Reklaw’s response. “What drives you, Reklaw? Is it simply your desire for payment for your latest job? Or is it something else? I see a determination in your eyes that I rarely see in other men. I do not expect you to bare your soul to me, but I expect you to respect me enough to treat me like an equal.” Reklaw sighed and took a deep breath. “My methods… are intense and exact, for I am serious about my work. I am not attempting to sound callous once again, but my own motives are my own business, and not yours. If the time ever comes for you to know them, then I will reveal them to you.” He turned around and started back in the direction of Garamont. “I do not view you as an inferior, Devon,” he called. “Your purpose in this quest will be revealed soon enough… but you have much to learn.” Devon stared intently at Reklaw, waiting for him to turn back around. When he did not, he shook his head again and trotted up to join him. “You need me, don’t you? Your pride keeps you from admitting it. I perceive you as an independent man, Reklaw. But you need my help, and you didn’t know how to ask. That is why you didn’t refuse my accompanying you.” “It is not my pride that clouds my thinking; it is yours,” Reklaw replied calmly. “What do you mean?” Devon replied, looking slightly puzzled. “You still view yourself as First General, a man with unmatched skill in diplomacy, combat, and investigation. I must say two things. First, the world outside the castle is a different one. You are not prepared. Second, you have relinquished that past… voluntarily, from what I hear. You are not the man you once were, and you will never be that man again.” “Then who am I?” Devon asked. Reklaw thought for a moment. “Your identity is for you to determine… or perhaps, this mission will determine it for you.”
Though none would admit it, very few people in the kingdom respected Joram, Second Son of Faleaon. His less desirable traits were many in number – brashness, arrogance, and hardheadedness, just to name three. However, these traits certainly could not be enough to label him a bad person, for (as is the case for all men) he did in fact possess some good qualities. Joanna felt frustrated that few people ever saw the Joram she knew. She saw him as a very loyal brother, a man who would do anything for her. She often remembered how, as a child, Joram would “protect” her from Nathan, who often enjoyed teasing and picking on his twin siblings. She only wished people would see Joram as she saw him. In some ways, Joram enjoyed being viewed as the “Bad Seed.” Before Joram’s birth, everyone knew that Nathan would be king someday. Joanna, as the “Elder Twin,” reserved the monarchal right in case of Nathan’s death. Therefore, Joram grew up knowing that he would never be king. Whether consciously or not, Joram discovered other ways to garner attention for himself. Some of his activities had caused embarrassment for the royal family over the years… notably an alcohol-induced skirmish with several townspeople on his twentieth birthday. Indeed, no one would ever voice their true opinions of Joram, but in the towns his name was always mentioned with a barely noticeable sneer. Joram entered the palace to find his sister consulting with several officials. He smiled at them and stood to one side, waiting for them to leave. After several moments, Joanna thanked the three men and turned towards her brother. “Hello, brother, how are you?” “Very busy, Joanna,” he replied. He gently took her hand. “I promised you that I would keep you informed of any leads in the investigation. I have been consulting with General Warren. We believe we may have a lead.” “Oh?” Joanna replied, a little disappointed that the message was coming from him and not Devon Tristam. “We examined the quiver that the assassin left behind,” he replied proudly. “It belongs to a trader from Vato.” Joanna nodded. “Okay… have Warren’s men investigated?” “Yes, we have dispatched several men to the town. We will get to the bottom of this, Joanna. Our brother’s death will not go unpunished.” Joanna smiled. “Thank you, Joram, for all you are doing. I am very proud of you for taking such a leading role in the investigation.” Joram shrugged, turning to look at a large painting hanging on the south wall. “I do what I must, Joanna. I do it to protect you, to protect Father. You know well that Nathan and I did not always see eye to eye. But I loved him; he was my brother. And I have no desire to be king through the deaths of my family. If I must have Father commission me as a general, then I will do so.” Joanna shook her head. “Surely it will not come to that. Let Warren and his men handle the investigation, Joram. You do not have to do this to prove yourself. You should help me with the festival preparations.” Joram scoffed at this suggestion. “Festival? Don’t be absurd. I don’t have time for that.” “I just thought it might take your mind…” Joram cut her off. “You know, that may be fine for you, but I have more important things to attend to.” This angered Joanna. “What do you mean? Do you mean this as an insult to me?” Joram shook his head. “Joanna, I was not going to say anything to you, but it almost seems as if you are acting like nothing has happened. How can you focus on something so petty at a time like this?” Joanna found herself in tears. “How dare you! Unlike you, I actually shed a tear for my brother. I think about his death every moment, and I wonder how I can be of service. Nathan always enjoyed the Annual Festival. I oversee it every year, and I will not stop now.” Joram seemed disappointed. “Grow up, Joanna. If he were here, Nathan would desire that we find the individuals responsible for his death... that we spend our time and energy on that. You’ve always been so… naïve and focused on triviality.” Joanna lowered her head. “I am so sorry, Joram.” “For what?” he asked. “I am sorry, Joram, for it appears that I know you very well, yet you do not know me at all.” She wiped away her tears with her kerchief and climbed the stairs to her chambers. “Joanna!” her brother called after her. “Please know that I am only concerned with your safety. I simply feel that… you should be more aware of the danger that surrounds us all right now.” At the top of the stairs, she turned to her brother. “I relinquish you from your obligation to inform me any further about the investigation. After all, I am only concerned with triviality.” Devon Tristam and Damien Reklaw continued to ride in silence for much of the journey to Garamont. Tensions had cooled somewhat between the two men, but Devon still felt frustrated, for he knew so little about his companion, yet Reklaw seemed to know quite a bit about him. He finally grew tired of the silence. “I was so nervous when I became First General… I honestly felt that they had the wrong man.” “Do you think they did?” Reklaw inquired, his eyes fixed on the lights of Garamont on the horizon. “At the time, yes. It wasn’t until the victory at Crow’s Hill that I thought, ‘Maybe I am cut out for this after all.’” “You were not used to combat?” Devon was shocked that Reklaw was actually carrying on a conversation with him, but continued. “I didn’t mind combat; I wasn’t used to leading men. The idea of men’s lives hanging in the balance as a result of my decisions… it still scares me.” “I have always preferred to operate singularly, so I have little advice to offer in that regard,” Reklaw replied. “However, I perceive that a good leader shoulders that burden and looks upon it as a necessity of his position, rather than as a curse. He leads in spite of it.” Devon nodded. “I became the envy of people everywhere… men desired my success and women knew my name. I have never experienced a stranger thing in my life than watching my own celebrity unfold.” He couldn’t tell for sure, but he thought he saw a slight smile come across Reklaw’s face. “Celebrity is a strange thing,” Reklaw stated. “In one instance, a man becomes revered by all who know him. He does what he loves, and he shares the love of the woman who completes him. In another instance, the same man may be a wanderer, a man unknown to all. He searches for purpose, and love escapes him.” Devon pondered this statement for a moment and did not know how to answer. “Tell me, Reklaw, have you ever loved a woman?” Reklaw was silent for a long time. He finally responded, but not in the way Devon wished. “We are almost to Garamont. We will lodge at the Old Shoe Inn for the night.” Devon would not relent. “That is not what I asked. Simply answer my question.” Reklaw remained silent for a few moments, but then spoke. “Love escapes me.” As the two arrived at the outskirts of Garamont, Devon thought back to the last time he was here. About one year ago, he had made a sword for a well-to-do businessman, who wished to mount the blade on the wall of his store. Although he dressed and looked quite differently than he did when he was in the service of the king, he was still amazed that no one had recognized him. “I’m back,” Devon thought. “I wonder how many nobles will wish to dine with me tomorrow.” He saw the Old Shoe Inn just ahead of them and became elated at the thought of sleep. He then noticed Reklaw looking at him intently. “I have a question for you, Devon, and I want you to think of your answer carefully. Why did you go on this mission? For Joanna, for yourself, or for your legacy?” Devon thought for a moment. “I… I do not know.” Reklaw nodded. “I perceive we will be together for a while. Therefore, at the end of this mission, I will ask you this question again. I will expect an answer.” This time, Devon was sure he saw Reklaw crack a smile. |
