The Guard

Slowly, but surely, Ryxel woke up from his sleep in the Arch-Stable. His eyes stuck together a little from the intensity of his sleep last night. He had to make use of it, for that was his last night here in Altay.   He twitched his ears to hear it anything unusual was nearby, but they were as drowsy as the rest of him. He raised his hand to sweep the mop of long black hair from his face, so that the only thing besides the light fur on his face was his long, thin braid on the end of his chin.   As a centaur soldier, particularly one of the Grey Guard of Mekonia, he had dreamt many days of all the friends and companions he had over the years of his service. Of fellow guards of great men and women, of soldiers who followed him into battle against rebels and outlaws, and of fine women who had enticed him. They had all sorts of personalities and temperaments among them.   But Lyra Dizoan, Daughter of the Duke of Altyn, was different. She was young and gentle, a proper lady who knew courtesy and loved to read, with many friends, not a distant statesman like her father, who had few. He stretched from his spot to put on his full green tunic and grey abguard, meant to guide the vulnerable connection between the upper and lower bodies. Ryxel thought the marriage in the capital was a terrible idea, but he was just a bodyguard, not a politician. What did he know of these things?   "Wake up, sleepy!" There she was! She must have snuck into the stable without the others noticing. Either that or the guards had let her in. Her hair shone so black it seemed to drain the sunlight out of its surroundings, and the dress she wore was a light silver, almost white. A signature of the Duchy of Altyn, she wore the simple silver tiara of the Duke's children. As the Duke's only daughter, she was to be married into one of the most powerful families in all of the Dominion.   "Good morning, little one. May I say you look beautiful this morn?" She indeed did look as a true lady would. Seventeen now, she was more than old enough to marry and bear someone's children, even if she didn't seem ready for it.   She liked that. "You truly are kind of words, Ryxel. I still fear for this betrothal I'm afraid. I've heard so many things about Phurzia, and about the Capital. They don't have dukes, or lords or those damned governors either, just some parliament to vote and ten men who tell the whole Dominion what to do! It all seems just too different for me!"   Ryxel couldn't blame her. Her grandfather, after his own father's death in battle, had only reluctantly surrendered his people to the Dominion's conquest, making Altyn the most recent governate. The people were hardly used to being part of a greater nation, and many still resented the Dominate taxes on top of the old ones. But noone resented the Dominion as much as the Duke's family themselves, their powers greatly diminished in favour of the appointed Governor. Her father certainly had, as he'd outright told Ryxel the day before today.   "Don't worry, little one!" Ryxel assured her. "I'm sure you will do just fine there, as will I." He crouched down to her height, as hard as that was for something of his size. "After all, where else have I failed your family?"   She smiled at the remark. "Well, Father trusts you, that is certain. And he trusts almost no one else." She turned to the window, a gleam of sadness in her eye. "I'm not so sure he even trusts me, in all honesty." There were no others outside, at least not in ear shot. Ryxel had enough experience to know if someone was spying on him by now. She spoke to him again. "Did he tell you who I am to marry there?"   Ryxel lied. "No, I'm afraid he was spare on that."   Lyra started. "They say he is human, which is good for me." She has a look of embarrassment. "Not that it would make him any better than another." He smirked at that. "They say he's a few years older than me." That would be an understatement, my dear. "And he's not an ugly man, either." The rumours Ryxel has heard certainly said he was popular at least. "Oh! And how could I forget? His name is Zykosh Nallan, and he's the eldest son of Benjamin Nallin, the richest man in the Dominion! He's hoping to be elected into office when the Heart Symon Slint's term runs out! I could be the wife of a Decarch!" The enthusiasm she had was as infectious as the Blue Fever.   "Very true!" He said. "But we need to get there first, otherwise the whole arrangement will be a waste!" He stood up steadily. It wasn't merely for a tie with the capital that the marriage had been arranged. Arnyrr was never too certain as to the motivations of the Capital, and as Ryxel had been years ago, he had hoped the centaur could write back to Altyn of the goings on there. Ryxel knew that was a risk, as was protecting Lyra, but he knew the business long enough to know what they involved. But he wasn't quite as quick as in his younger years now, so he needed to be even more careful. "The travelling arrangements have already been sorted."   "Well then," she started with a sigh. "Isn't it time we went then?" She seemed disappointed. Ryxel couldn't blame her at all. She would miss home, there was no denying that. She looked outside the stable windows at her father's palace, the @Bronze Fist, shaken defiantly into the sky. "Father always knows best." Ryxel tasted some venom in her voice. "I have no issue with the Governor, I don't see why Father thinks of him so lowly." Well I know the rumours about the last governor, Ryxel thought. "I guess he dreams too big."   Ryxel whispered now. "I can't say I disagree, Lyra, though that doesn't change the reality of the matter." He picked up his saddle and twisted round, fastening it over his lower half. This was always a difficult manoeuvre, and it didn't get easier with age. "Well come on then, hop on!" She did.   She certainly felt lighter than many of the soldiers who had ridden him over the years. Especially Fat Fredrik. How could he have not known with a name like that?! Lyra didn't grab the steers, for Ryxel knew where he was supposed to go. He went on the road as some of Arnyrr's servants had some dispute over what fabric was going to be used in the Governor's bedroom tonight. The lead servant was definitely Phurzic, just looking at her. They looked back at him. Centaurs were a rare race in Altyn except for the mountain tribes of the north-east, but the Dominion was not one for keeping people in the land of their birth.   "Hello, friend! Good morning to you!" Yahmed and Clovin walked by, dressed head to toe in their green and black armour, kite shaped shields on their backs. "And to you, my lady!" They tipped their heads in respect. Ryxel couldn't see her smile but he reckoned she did.   "And you as well, boys!" Like Ryxel, they were far from home, and he knew that Clovin wrote to his wife and small children every month. He didn't share that experience, but he definitely sympathised at least. 'It was better to have love what is far away than to not love at all' as the poets of Illustrio say. Ryxel noticed some movement behind them as he walked along, on the floor.   "Off to a meeting, Ikhinei?" That was the Alty word for officer, the rank Ryxel had earned his way up to in the Dominion's army. Along with the Duke's daughter?" It was Y'ksalomhurt crawling around again as they always do. Ryxel never trusted them, not because they were Vrain, but their past as an outlaw before 'repenting before the Swarm in the Sky'.   "Not one that concerns you." He shot back. Ryxel ignored whatever response the horde made back. He whispered under his breath. "I never liked that bloody horde." He knew 'horde' was offensive when addressing Vrain, but Ryxel thought respect was deserved, not forced.   "Your courtesy has hardly grown since I was little." Lyra remarked. "If we're going to the Capital together, you're going to have to work on that." She giggled.   "Well, we're not there yet." He said. The city's outer walls opened up before the Marble Road, as the other guards were readying themselves with other passengers, with three horses pulling a carriage as well. "Wouldn't your father want you to have such a carriage, like Arben? Surely he would be better company than on my back."   "My little half-brother isn't that little that he needs me to mind over him." Ryxel wasn't quite sure why Arben was going up north with her, but he supposed that as the son of Arnyrr's second wife, it would be better if he was not in the way of the line of succession. Arnyrr always had a mind for the political, perhaps more than as a father. Ryxel always wondered if he'd have been a good father had he found a wife, but that was a life not for him.   "You are correct." Ryxel said. In the crowd, he saw a number of figures, some vague and others not so much. He noticed another Mekonian centaur, Oxol, whom he hadn't seen in thirteen years, was escorting some Illustrio ambassadors out of their carriage. Some courtesans from the Bronze Fist were also coming along this road to find opportunities elsewhere. Better than the life in court, Ryxel thought. Chief among them was none other than Duke Arnyrr himself. Waiting for his daughter, and apparently for Ryxel too, given his intent glare.   "You're late, Ryxel." The Duke remarked. "Later than I would have hoped." He brightened up at the sight of his daughter. "Well, my seashell, you look marvellous today!" His grin made his black, wired whiskers stand out even more than they normally did, and he bent down in anticipation for Lyra to come down. She did get down from Ryxel's back, but she didn't embrace her father. He got up again. "You know, for many who refuse my embrace, they end up in the cells."   "Well, I'm not many, Father!" She bowed with courtesy. He smiled at that.   "That is true, my daughter." Arnyrr resounded. "As is my decrees. I know you fear for where you and your brother are going now, but I would never let you into a situation that you can't fight your way out of, whether through out friend Ryxel here, or with your mind." Lyra clearly wanted to say more in response, but Ryxel shot her a look. It is better to listen to the whole case than to interrupt and leave out potentially vital details; a fact he had most definitely learned over the years from his mistakes.   "Why are you so eager for this, Father?" She asked. "Why did you set me up with Zykosh Nallan in the Capital? A man I have never even met?" Her tone was like iron here.   "Your mother came from another land too, do you not remember that?" If Lyra was iron, Arnyrr was steel. "Your stepmother I married for the duty of my people, but your mother, I bought here from what was all but exile, for what? To take her away from all that she had seen, to see peace. To be loved! I almost lost our seat for her sake, and for yours. But I am to ensure peace and prosperity in my lands, I had to take your stepmother to compensate for my supposed sins." Ryxel knew the duke of Altyn could take two wives if he wished, but he ha no choice but to marry a second if he married outside of the Great families. Many didn't even think one could marry outside of Altyn! "I did my duty, and you will too. You won't love him at first, but maybe one day, that will change. I have full faith that you and your brother will succeed there." He wiped the dust from his feet, his green and grey robes drifting as barley. Lyra was still sad, but she understood, at least as Ryxel could see.   She still seemed sad though. "And why can't my mothers say their farewells to me?" Lyra's mother from birth was left sickly after bearing Arnyrr's heir and Lyra's younger full brother, Boldyr, not even a man yet at twelve, and tended to stay in the Bronze Fist. Lyra certainly got her beauty from her mother, and not her long-faced father.   "Your mother is by Boldyr's side as we speak, she regrets every second that she isn't by your side." Ryxel knew the response for her stepmother would be less forgiving. "Helyna has already said her fair-well to Arben, and has gone east to meet with my council." It was no secret in court that Lyra and her stepmother didn't see eye to eye, and nor did her mother Janet.   Arnyrr turned to him too. "You will provide for her in her time there, ensure that she is safe at every turn, and report to me anything of use. You are to keep her safe from all things, physical or political. Even if that includes her husband." This last part he said with some bitterness. Even he resents this, e thought. Who is really behind this? "You will swear this by the High Lady Above, and the Black Lion below."   Ryxel bowed to his knee as Lyra watched. "I, Ryxel of the Grey Guard, do solemnly swear by the High Lady Above, the Black Lion Below, and all the Lands between, that as long as my heart beats, no blade, nor arrow, nor malice shall come to your daughter. This day and every day I draw breath!" He closed his eyes. Twitching his ears, he could hear Arnyrr unsheathe something made of metal. A blade? The Dukes of Altyn has no knights to serve, unlike their neighbours of Evergnon.   He heard a rattle from above.   He felt droplets on his hair, dropping down his mane across his face and over his mouth and eyes. Oil, he thought. Arnyrr was anointing him in front of all who were present. Ryxel was proud of what he had done to this point, but not on this level.   Arnyrr spoke. "I, Arnyrr Dizoan, Duke of all Altyn and Bearer of the Bronze, accept your oath before the gods to uphold my daughter's safety." Now Ryxel opened his eyes and lifted his head, while still kneeling. "Ryxel, your service has been great, and now you shall serve me for the past before you can go back home!" Cheers erupted in the crowd gathered around, and even the Duke's White Griffs emerged from their pens, flapping all four wings frantically and calling out in excitement at the proclamation. He doubted they knew what was going on, but when their master was happy, they were. Regardless, Ryxel knew his purpose again. He was to guide the young lady to her new life, or die trying.   A man came over from the carriages. "Your grace, the carriages are ready. It is time, I'm afraid." He spoke perfect Altay, but had a noticeable accent of Slithia. "You may be the Duke, but the Decarchs watch over us all." Ryxel thought this as some passive threat if anything.   Arnyrr turned to his daughter with arms wide. She resisted at first, but then relented, tears in her eyes. Even crying, she had a gentle beauty to her. She might make a man very happy inside, he thought. But truly, he did not know what this Zallosh man was like. Maybe he would be kind and caring, or distant and indifferent. Perhaps attached to another woman, or to no one at all. There was no way to know.   "I will miss you, Father." Lyra came out finally. "And mother too." Arnyrr got up again. Ryxel used his chance to stand up too. "Promise you'll visit me in the capital!"   "I will miss you too, sweetheart. And yes, I shall visit wherever and whenever I can." He backed away. To most, he seemed stoic and indifferent, but to Ryxel, over the years he'd been alongside the duke, he might as well have sobbed. "Goodbye."   She climbed onto Ryxel's back and he started to turn around to ride. But a hand went on his rump. Is this some wicked gesture or-   "Farewell, friend." Arnyrr said with a voice too low for human ears to hear at that distance. Ryxel looked and nodded back, expressionless. And to you as well, your grace.   Now he trotted up to where the carriages were set to go to the capital, complete with supplies for the long journey. It would be more than two thousand kilometres to reach the Capital, the City with a Thousand Names, and even more dangers. Lyra stroked his hair. "I fear the future, I won't lie." She put her hand down, for his to hold. "But I know my duty, as do yours." He held it tenderly.   "That is certainly something to agree on." Ryxel said as he looked toward the green meadows ahead as the Marble Road stretched into the horizon, cutting through farm, marsh, hills and forest. The road alone will be hard, Ryxel knew it. There would be bandits, rippers, wolves, bears, great white griffs larger than those in captivity. Who knows, maybe a @Jazyart tribe may have slipped past @Evergnon's great forts? It mattered not, for Ryxel was prepared for them all. But he didn't think anything could prepare him for the dangers of Phoz .