Son of the Hero by Rick Shelley Read Free Book Online Page A

a corridor, up a broad stairway. There were narrow window openings on the courtyard and on the great hall until we got above the rafters. The stairway climbed another thirty steps before we got to a landing and went along another corridor. This one was lit only by a large window at the far end. We went halfway down the hall before the chamberlain turned to double doors on our right and pushed them open.
    Kardeen gestured us through. Inside, no introductions were needed. Parthet went to where Pregel was sitting on the edge of the largest bed I’ve ever seen and went down on one knee. So did I.
    “Get up, get up,” Pregel said. His voice was reedy but strong. He did look old, but nothing like one hundred twenty-five. I would have guessed seventy-ish. But what good were my guesses when Parthet claimed to be a lot more than six hundred years old and didn’t look much older than fifty?
    “It’s been a long time, Gil,” Pregel said. “I haven’t seen you since you were so small you couldn’t see across the top of this bed.” He glanced at Parthet, then back at me. “You may have been four or five, no more. Your parents thought you were getting too old to bring back all the time without your asking a lot of questions.” He shrugged and stood. He was a little taller than me. “They wanted to wait until you were grown to tell you of your heritage. I still think it was the wrong choice, but it was theirs to make. And how you’ve grown!” He took my by the arm, and we started toward the door. His grip was strong, and he didn’t move like one hundred twenty-five and ailing. Parthet and the chamberlain followed us.
    “I still know almost nothing about it, Your Majesty,” I said. “This crisis. All I had was a note from Mother saying that she thought Dad might be in trouble and she was going to try to rescue him.”
    “Avedell has always been headstrong,” Pregel said. “It runs in the family. Gallops. I wish I could say that the crisis is past, that they’ve made it back from Castle Thyme, but we’ve had no word from either of them.”
    “I think that’s why I’m here. I guess it’s my turn. And I really don’t know where to start.”
    “If I were a bit younger, I’d saddle up and lead the army after them, or ride along with you myself. But the army, such as it is, is fully occupied in the north, trying to hold back magic with metal. It doesn’t work as well as a good wizard would.” He didn’t raise his voice or look back, but I couldn’t miss the rebuke he was directing at Parthet. Neither could Parthet.
    “When this is over,” I said, “perhaps I can take Parthet back to my world to let an eye doctor fit him with proper glasses.”
    “Anything to help,” Pregel said. Parthet kept silent.
    We crossed to a room on the other side of the hall.
    “My private dining room,” Pregel said, “for days when I don’t feel like going up and down steps.” The room was thirty feet square. A long table bisected the room. There was a fancy chair at one end and six plainer chairs along each side. As soon as the king arrived, servants started hauling in food through a door in the back corner.
    “Will you join me in a little breakfast?” the king asked. I had a notion that it wouldn’t be proper etiquette to refuse even though I was stuffed. I didn’t need Parthet’s discreet throat-clearing behind me.
    “I’d be honored,” I said.
    “It never hurts to fill up the corners,” Parthet said.
    “We did have a bite downstairs,” I said.
    Just the three of us sat, with Parthet across the table from me. Pages served us. Kardeen stood at the king’s right elbow. He didn’t eat, but he didn’t seem to be lacking for nourishment. Pregel started on a large platter of food. So did Parthet. The wizard ate as if it had been twenty days since his last meal, not twenty minutes. I ate just a little, and had trouble with that.
    “We’ve had no news at all from Castle Thyme,” Pregel said after he had made