Chronicles of the Golden City Read online

  “Yeah, I guess you do have a good reason,” Linden conceded. “But you have to admit, I have a pretty good reason too.” Linden gave Harper a bony elbow to the ribs. “Right, Harper? My reason’s just as good as yours, maybe better, right?” But Harper only rolled his eyes.

  Finally, Linden had run out of things to say, and the forest was blanketed in silence. In the peacefulness of his surroundings, Harper leaned his head against the tree and let his mind wander. Tomorrow, for the first time ever, he would be leaving the only place he knew as home. It was a strange thought, and he didn’t know what to do with the mixture of emotions that seemed to shift as frequently as the springtime breeze. There were times that his excitement kept him awake at night. He could hardly believe the day had finally come: himself, a skilled soldier in the service of the Golden City. But other times his excitement was swept away by a feeling of dread that was so heavy it nearly took his breath away. For one, there was the uncertainty of the unknown. But even more distressing was the thought of leaving his dad behind.

  A rustling of underbrush disturbed Harper from his thoughts. Cautiously, Harper raised his head above the fallen tree. Well within range of his bow was a buck, its head lowered as it nibbled at fallen acorns. Harper turned to nudge Linden so he could share in the good fortune, but Linden’s head was slumped to his chest in a midmorning nap. Figuring it was better that Linden was asleep, Harper notched an arrow, then slowly lifted his bow, and took aim.

  CHAPTER 3

  VISITORS

  “Harper, you know that if I beat you, I can still win the overall competition, don’t you?” said Linden, as they stood on the bank of the mill pond along with the seven other boys who were waiting for the warrior race to begin.

  “What?” said Harper. “How?”

  “I’ll tell you how,” said Linden as he giddily rubbed his hands together. “You got 10 points for winning the dueling tournament, and I got five for getting third. Then, in archery you got another 10 points, and I got seven for getting second. That means, going into the warrior race, you have 20 points and I have 12. But here’s the exciting part: the winner of the warrior race gets 30 points, and second place only gets 20 points. So if I win, I’ll end with 42 points, and the best you can do is 40 points.” Linden playfully jabbed Harper in the gut with a left and a right. “So, are you nervous now?”

  “Nervous? No. Annoyed? Yes, and for more than one reason.” Harper pushed Linden’s hands aside and backed away from him. “What you’re saying is that I can get two firsts and a second, and still lose overall to a person who got a first, second, and third.” Harper scowled. “That’s stupid. Who came up with the points system?”

  Just then a gray-haired man whose beard was as sparse as his teeth banged on a pot with a wooden spoon, then hollered in high, country voice, “All gather for the warrior race!”

  Harper looked at Linden. “Of course. Old Man Tompkin came up with the scoring system. I should have known.”

  Old Man Tompkin, the town’s innkeeper, cackled as he banged his pot twice more, then turned to the boys at the starting line. “All right you boys, you know how it’s done. On my signal you’ll splash yourselves across this here pond, then ride like thunder over the woodland path, and finish by trompin’ ‘round the outskirts three times.” With another cackle Old Man Tompkin backed out of the way and lifted his pot over his head. “Here we go. Boys, get on your marks.”

  A gap-filled smile overtook Old Man Tompkin’s face as he watched the boys crouch into ready positions.

  “Get set …”

  Silent tension filled the air as the boys waited for Old Man Tompkin’s signal, but all of a sudden there was a movement, followed by a splash. Linden had jumped into the pond and was already off and swimming.

  “Go!” screeched Old Man Tompkin, and he wildly banged his pot.

  The rest of the boys dove into the water, a full second behind Linden. They thrashed across the pond, water splashing everywhere as arms and legs slapped the surface. Linden was the first to reach the opposite shore, and after climbing onto his waiting horse, he galloped towards the forest.

  “Hammond, good to see you! What brings you to Weston?”

  “Hello, Lawson,” said the thickly muscled man from atop his horse, gray streaks along the jaw of his brown beard revealing his middle age. “I knew of Weston’s spring festival, so I thought I’d bring a few guests with me.” Hammond extended his arm towards his traveling party. “I present to you Lord Carrington and Lady Bailey, son and daughter of Wesley, king of Mascaroth.”

  Lawson gave a small bow. “Welcome you two to Weston and our humble spring festival.”

  The two guests returned Lawson’s bow with polite nods.

  “And this man,” said Hammond to his royal companions, “is Lawson, Weston’s metalsmith. And if I’m not mistaken, he has a son participating in the race we’re watching.” Hammond turned back to Lawson. “How’s Harper doing?”

  Lawson’s expression turned painful. “By my count he was in seventh place coming out of the water, about five seconds behind the leader.”

  From their grassy perch outside of town, the group turned their attention back to the race, and it wasn’t long before Linden emerged from the woods on the lead horse. Seconds later the remaining riders came into view, and soon they were off their horses to begin the first of three laps around the town.

  “Harper’s still in seventh place,” said Hammond. “I think he lost a few seconds, too. What do you think, Lawson? Does he have it in him?”

  “I don’t know,” said Lawson. “He’s got a lot of ground to make up, and Linden, the person in first, is a good runner. But knowing Harper, I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s not the type who enjoys losing.”

  “If I may inquire,” broke in Carrington, “Sir Lawson, how old are these boys?”

  “Harper is 20,” said Lawson. “The other boys are approximately the same age.”

  “Three years my elder,” Carrington said thoughtfully as he stroked his wispy attempt at a beard. “The age difference would certainly present a challenge. Nevertheless, I do believe I would have been competitive had I entered the race.”

  “Oh Carri, please,” said Bailey to her hefty younger brother. “You’d hardly be able to start the race, let alone finish it. When was the last time you did any physical activity?”

  “Sister, you underestimate my abilities,” said Carrington as he puffed out his chest, unfazed. “Royalty runs in my blood, and with it, the innate sense of a hardened soldier.”

  Harper’s breath was heavy, but even, as he finished his first lap. He had passed five of the boys, and the only one who remained between him and first place was Linden. Harper focused his eyes ahead of him. With first place only seconds away, his emotions urged him to increase his pace, but wisdom spoke louder, and maintaining his speed, gradually he closed the gap.

  Old Man Tompkin banged his pot as Linden began his final lap. Seconds later Harper had also begun his third lap, and as the cheers of the crowd swelled, he decided it was time to make his move. With a scowl of determination, Harper increased his pace, and as he made the first of four turns around the town, he had pulled even with Linden. The two friends ran shoulder to shoulder, each testing the other with small increases of speed, until they reached the far side of town, and Harper threw back his head and took off in a sprint. With a desperate grunt Linden tried to match Harper’s speed burst, but as they made the final turn, Linden fell back. The crowd cheered as Harper crossed the finish line in first place.

  His legs wobbling like an old chair, Harper placed his hands on his hips and walked in a circle as he attempted to regain his breathing.

  Linden staggered to Harper and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I ... almost ... had ... you,” said Linden breathlessly. He held his finger and his thumb an inch apart. “I ... was ... this ... close.”

  Harper breathed in deep, then let it out slowly. “The only reason you were that close,” he said before pausing to take anoth
er deep breath, “is because you cheated. You didn’t have to fight to pass people like I did.”

  “Me, cheat?” said Linden innocently. “That wasn’t cheating.”

  “You jumped into the pond early,” said Harper. “If that’s not cheating, then what is?”

  “I was merely taking the head start I deserved in order to give myself a fighting chance,” Linden calmly explained.

  Harper raised an annoyed eyebrow, but then shook his head and smiled. “Only you would have a clean conscience about doing something like that.”

  “It’s not about having a clean conscience,” said Linden. “It has everything to do with—” But then Linden stopped explaining himself. He frowned as something in the distance caught his attention. “Hey, who are those people with your dad?”

  Harper looked to where Linden was pointing. “That’s Lord Hammond,” said Harper, sounding surprised. “I didn’t know he was here.”

  “Lord Hammond?” said Linden.

  “Yeah, I doubt you know him,” said Harper. “He’s from Mascaroth. He randomly visits Weston every now and then.”

  “And what about the people with him?” said Linden. “Who are they?”

  Harper squinted, then shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Then don’t you think we should find out?” said Linden, and he began walking towards the group—across the dirt road, over a cobblestone bridge that spanned a bubbling creek, and up the small, grassy rise—with Harper at his side.

  “Hey, boys,” said Harper’s dad as they approached. “I’m glad you came over. Lord Hammond brought a couple of royal visitors with him to the spring festival. Lord Carrington and Lady Bailey, this is my son, Harper.”

  “Hi,” said Harper pleasantly, and he smiled as he dipped his head in a respectful bow.

  “And this is Harper’s friend, Linden,” continued Harper’s dad.

  Harper stood silently, a polite smile still etched on his face, but when seconds passed and Linden still hadn’t said anything, Harper looked at Linden out of the corner of his eye. Harper lost his breath as an awkward shiver ran through his body. Linden was staring at Bailey.

  Desperate, Harper bumped Linden with a shoulder. “Are you alive?” he whispered through clenched teeth. “Say or do something.”

  Linden finally pried his eyes off Bailey and glanced at Harper. “I think I’ve found her,” he said, his high, airy voice filled with hopeful passion, and before Harper could do anything but gasp, Linden was at the side of Bailey’s horse.

  “Fortune has smiled upon me today,” said Linden in a buttery voice as he looked up at Bailey. “Only in my dreams have I imagined standing in the presence of such loveliness. Thy skin is smooth as cream and dark as chestnuts. Thy hair, so long and soft, shines like polished bronze. Please do not think me too bold to say, the fairest flower would blush before thy beauty.”

  Barely able to breathe, Harper stared at the ground, too embarrassed to raise his head.

  Linden took a step closer to Bailey, bent low in a sweeping bow, then lifted his hands toward her. “If my lady would allow, let thy humble servant assist thee off thy horse. It is the least of services I could render unto thee.”

  Bailey’s mouth hung open as one of her eyebrows shot into the air, her twisted expression a mixture of confusion and disgust. But then her face softened, and with a light returning to her dark eyes, she smiled gently. “Such generous words. To think that I should find a gentleman so charming as thee in such a small town. Thy heart is that of a servant, and I would gladly take thee upon thine offer. However, I have but one concern: thine arms look flimsy as blades of grass. If I cast myself upon thee, I should fear for my life.”

  Linden’s face turned a pale shade of red, and he let his arms drop to his side.

  “And yet, though it may be hard to believe,” Bailey continued, “I have another concern that shakes my heart with an even greater fear. Hast thou bathed within the last month? An ugly aroma riseth from thee, and it is nearly unbearable. I fear that if I come any closer to thee, thy aroma shall penetrate my garments, and for the remainder of the day, I shall writhe in foul misery.” Having finally finished, Bailey smiled sweetly at Linden, then faked an innocent giggle as she batted her eyes.

  Linden’s blush was quickly replaced by stone-faced vexation. Not to be outdone, soon he had contorted his own face into a delightful smile that matched Bailey’s.

  “My dear lady,” said Linden with renewed vigor, “you possess the beauty of a rose ... and the tongue of a viper.”

  Bailey’s smile disappeared as she huffed in high-pitched offense, but Linden didn’t seem to notice.

  “As for the breadth of my arms,” said Linden, “alas, you are correct. Heroic strength is not my possession. And as for my—as you would call it—ugly aroma, I don’t doubt that you are again correct. After all, I just competed in a race on the warmest of days. Under the circumstances, I would hardly expect myself to smell like freshly baked bread. But may I warn you, before you faint over my smell, I advise that you first pay attention to your own odor, Miss Bailey ... lady of the horse.” With a smirk Linden gave another sweeping bow, then turned and walked away.

  Bailey stood in her saddle. “I might have been offended by what you said if you were anything more than a peasant!” she shouted after him.

  Linden kept walking as if he didn’t hear her.

  Bailey’s face reddened. “Did you hear me? You’re an Outlander, that’s what you are! Nothing but a worthless Outlander!”

  Carrington let out an abnormally loud sigh. “Women and drama,” he said, as if blessed with a stroke of wisdom. “It’s as predictable as the dawn. What’s a man to do?”

  “Carri!” Bailey snapped, but Carrington only shook his head, smiling to himself as he attempted to dismount his horse. He tried to swing his leg over the horse, but his leg didn’t make it. He tried again, harder this time, and finally his hefty leg reached the correct side, but in his effort, he nearly lost his balance. Steadying himself by placing both hands on the saddle, he lowered himself to the ground, then walked to Lawson and tossed him the reins.

  “If no one minds, I think I’ll have a look around,” said Carrington. “Who knows, maybe I’ll even challenge a few people to a friendly duel.” Carrington unsheathed his sword and stabbed the air with a flurry of wild strokes before returning it to his hip. He then headed towards town.

  In the moment of silence that followed, Harper cautiously raised his head, as if emerging from hiding after the rage of battle had passed, thankful that the embarrassment of the last five minutes had finally dissipated. Harper raised his eyebrows as he gave a passing glance to his dad and Hammond, convinced they were feeling the same way he was. Then, intentionally turning his back to Bailey, Harper began for town. But Harper had taken only a few short strides before he was turned back around.

  “You ... Harper,” called Bailey. “Your name is Harper, right?”

  Harper gingerly looked over his shoulder. “Yeah, that’s my name,” he said, trying to sound cheerful.

  Bailey dismounted her horse and hopped onto the ground. She led the horse to Hammond and handed him the reins, then turned back to Harper. “I’ve been in the saddle all day. For the last two days, really. Wherever you’re going, do you mind if I walk with you?”

  “Uh ... well ... sure,” said Harper. “Whatever my lady wants, I’m happy to serve her.” But then Harper looked at his clothes, still wet from his swim. “Actually though, I was on my way home to change into different clothes.”

  “Then I’ll walk with you to your house,” said Bailey. “I’ll do anything to get out of the saddle.”

  “Um, okay,” said Harper. He nervously shot another glance at Hammond and his dad before turning towards town, Bailey at his side.

  After they had walked a short distance, Bailey looked over her shoulder to make sure they were alone, then turned back to Harper. “Now that we’re away from Lord Hammond and your dad, do you mind if I ask you a question?”


  “Ahh ... sure?” said Harper, uneasy about what was coming next.

  Bailey lowered her voice. “I want you to be honest with me. Do I smell like a horse?”

  Harper scratched his head. “I ... I don’t ... I don’t really know.” He bit his lip and shrugged. “I guess I haven’t tried smelling you ... my lady.”

  Bailey put a hand over her heart and exhaled loudly. “That’s a relief.” But then she shook her head and scowled. “That Linden guy. I don’t like him. I don’t like him at all.”

  Harper looked at the ground as a surge of embarrassment returned, nearly knocking the wind out of him. “Yeah, I can’t believe he said that stuff. It was kind of … kind of strange.”

  “Kind of?” said Bailey, wide-eyed. “It couldn’t have been stranger. What was he thinking? A girl like me being impressed by a guy like him? Gross. But you have to tell me, is he an Outlander? Because he sure seems worthless.”

  At Bailey’s words, a spark of anger ignited in Harper, burning away his embarrassment. Closing his eyes, Harper took a moment to control his emotions, and when he reopened them, he spoke firmly. “No, Linden is not an Outlander. At times he’s strange, but he’s not worthless.” As soon as Harper finished speaking, and without waiting for Bailey’s reply, he increased his walking speed. His patience toward Bailey had already run dry, and he figured the quicker he made it home, the sooner he would be away from her.

  Soon they had arrived at the edge of town. Harper mindlessly stepped onto the rutted dirt road, but then he stopped. Overcome by a pang of responsibility, Harper turned around. “Is my lady okay with walking on the road? There’s a muddy spot here and there, and I wasn’t sure—”

  “Oh, I don’t mind,” said Bailey. “Not while I’m wearing these rags.” Bailey held out her arms as she examined her outfit, before looking away in revulsion. “Drab green pants to go along with a drab green shirt. I’m so ashamed.” Bailey looked back at Harper. “Honestly, this whole trip has been a terrible experience. A two-day journey bouncing on the back of a reeking beast, sleeping in the wilderness, and eating flavorless food. And my hands,” she said, flexing them, “they’re nearly worn through from the reins. After all this, I’d love nothing more than a nice, long soak in a warm tub. And after all I’ve been through, not only do I need it, but I also deserve it. Which, by the way, do you know where we’re staying tonight?”