The Chronicle Of Eboracum II...

Part Two – The Journey Back

The Nomad flinched when she said his name. It had been many years since anybody had spoken or even known it. Benedik was the name from another life, one where he had been a prince and he’d had a family. It was almost too long ago to remember and he had gone to great lengths to forget. He could not, however, deny his identity for the Guardian was one of the ancient deities and knew everything.

Benedik’s father had been King Huwon the Just and under his rule the kingdom of Eboracum had been a fair and peaceable land. The Prince had been raised by kindly and affectionate parents and he in turn helped to raise his younger siblings. He had always known that one day he would succeed his father and he was content in his own ability to do so.

The neighbouring kingdom of Wallachia, however, had not been so content. Its ruler, Aefon, was as ambitious as he was greedy. The prosperity of Eboracum was its ultimate downfall. Huwon’s kingdom became the first to fall and the first stone that Aefon the Conqueror laid to create his empire. The ruling dynasties of each conquered kingdom had to be killed so as to assure no rebellion against Wallachian control. Benedik’s family were murdered and through a simple misunderstanding of identity he alone escaped. The Guardian wrapped him in a cloak of protection and sent him far away. She promised him retribution and that one day he would return home.

In the intervening years he had plenty of time to reflect on the past. His inability to save his family or protect the people of his kingdom wrecked any of his previous self-assurance. He had failed as a son. He had failed as a prince. He had failed as a man. Time continued to pass until he could no longer remember what home looked like and so he decided to stop waiting for the Guardian. He adapted and he survived. Benedik became the Nomad.

“You waited a long time.” He said finally with great weariness. He usually made it a rule to reminisce about the past only when there was a bottle close to hand and it was certain that oblivion could be reached soon after. “Maybe you waited too long.” He shrugged, studiously indifferent. “It’s not been my home in many years.” The Guardian merely watched him with pale inhuman eyes, reading his heart as easily as if it were a document of state.

“Your people have waited a long time too.” She gently admonished him. Whilst he had found a new life in the East, the inhabitants of the kingdom had been subjected to Aefon’s tyrannical rule. “You’re needed in Eboracum, Benedik. Don’t let them down.”

“Why now?” His most recent quest had isolated him from civilised company and consequently he was unaware of the political machinations that had occurred in the wake of Aefon’s death.

“Aefon had always been too powerful to overthrow. No matter how we might have prepared we could not have succeeded against him. His death provides us with an opportunity. Disputes over the succession have weakened Wallachia. His heir is but a small boy and not all the generals will follow him. The Lords of the old kingdoms are gathering forces for a rebellion.”

“It sounds as if they’re managing on their own. And so am I.” He scowled darkly, trying to cover the cracks that were forming in his carefully crafted persona. “Eboracum and I have not needed each other for some time.”

“You’re wrong, Prince Benedik.” He wondered whether the Guardian persisted in using his real name in the hope that he’d be worn down and accept his rank. “The Lords are in need of a leader. Eboracum was the first to fall and it has become a symbol for all that has been inflicted on the western kingdoms. If you were to return and reclaim your title they would unite behind you.” Her gaze was direct and unwavering. He felt discomforted as if yet again he was a child of twelve in her presence. “You have lost your way. I think you are in need of them, as much as they are in need of you.”

“I made the choices that I needed in order to survive. I will not apologise for my past actions.” He was deliberately harsh and defensive. He had not been a prince for nearly a quarter of a century. He had been a thief and a killer, but never a leader of men. He was not sure he knew how anymore.

“Regret not the past, but learn so that you can improve the future.” For a moment it was as if she had spoken with the voice of someone much older and gruffer. He closed his eyes on the swell of emotion.

“Father.” Over the years the image of his family had dimmed and faded until all that he could recall were the vivid splashes of blood. His own certainty in his ability to rule had been rubbed away too. Yet the words reminded him of a father who had not been born great, but who had accepted flaws and learnt from them to be a better king and a better man. Perhaps it was only by confronting his own doubts that he would ever truly be able to overcome them.

Benedik opened his eyes, feeling as if he was seeing the world anew. Startled he noticed that the Guardian had moved. She had of course known the truth in his heart all along. His ultimate decision had never been in doubt. With a gentle hand she petted his horse, soothing its agitation and making it meek and insensible. The Guardian had dominion over all creatures and she coaxed the beast to do her bidding. The wings of his horse, usually so tightly hidden, began to twitch and unfurl.

“You have only a sennight. The Lords are preparing a War Council. You must attend and state your intention to reclaim the throne of Eboracum. Your horse knows where it must go.” She handed him the reins, his skin tingling where their fingers brushed. “Safe journey, my prince. Have faith. Only in Eboracum will you realise your destiny.”