through the big oakdoors that opened on the main hall. When they were finally inside, away from the prying eyes of the villagers, Sandon couldn’t help himself.
“Father.” He struggled to keep his voice from cracking. “What are you doing?”
The baron took off his helm, laying it on the wooden feast table with an empty thud. He paused for a moment, gathering himself, then turned and placed his hand on his son’s shoulder gravely. “Sandon, I want you to understand that this was the last thing I wanted to do. Malaise and Lazuli have drained this barony of its resources, taken away everything that once made us rich and prosperous. Right now, all the people can do is fight starvation. If we’d had to pay another tribute so near the harvest, everyone would have starved before winter’s end.”
Holding his son’s shoulder, the baron turned to his brother. “Vilfrand?”
“Yes, Camiel?”
“It will fall to you to hold the throne for my son until he reaches eighteen years of age and can rightfully inherit. By the law of the barony, he cannot be made baron until he reaches his majority. I know that you weren’t born to rule any more than I was, but until such time as this barony can be ruled by its rightfulblood”—he met his brother’s eyes formally—“I name you regent of the throne.”
“By your will, Your Excellency.” Vilfrand bowed deeply, lowering his head to quickly cover the shine that rose in his eyes.
“Dad …”
“Sandon.” Baron Camiel faced his son gently, the stony hardness that had served him so well against Malaise tightening across his features once more. “Do as you’re told. Mind your uncle. Rule well, and govern wisely. And for Paladine’s sake, give up these foolish visions of knighthood. The Knights of Solamnia are far away, and they’re not coming to save us. We have to save ourselves. The people of Hartfall need you—not your daydreams.” For a moment, it looked as if the baron would say more, but he simply cleared his throat and stepped back. Baron Camiel patted his son on the shoulder and turned toward Vilfrand. “Come, Captain. We have little time, and much to do before your regency begins.” He crossed the room toward his official chamber, boots clacking sharply on the hard floor.
Vilfrand lingered for a moment beside Sandon. When the baron passed out of view, Captain Vilfrand looked down at Sandon with a quiet solemnity. “You know that he cares for you very much, Sandon.” Whenthe boy had no answer, his uncle continued. “He’s right about the knights. They aren’t coming. We have to accept that, and do the best we can without them.”
“The knights always come!” Sandon struggled to keep hope alive. “Weren’t you the one who told me that when I was just a boy?”
His uncle looked uncomfortable, and lowered his head. “Did you know, Sandon, that when I was your age, I wanted to go join the knighthood—just like you do?”
Surprised at this revelation, Sandon managed only, “You did? Then … why did you stay?”
Vilfrand shrugged lightly. “There was no money for me to make the journey. Besides, your father had just become baron, and he needed me here in Hartfall.” His blue eyes were pale with old memories. “Sometimes you have to give up a dream to do the right thing, Sandon. That’s what your father told me at the time, and I believe that’s what he’s doing right now. He’s giving up his own future, all the years he has left to spend with you, so that the barony can survive. He’s giving his death meaning. Don’t take that from him, Sandon, just because you feel cheated of a child’s dream.”
Sandon’s heart sank. “Yes … yes, Uncle.”
“Listen to me. I have to go to your father now and plan out the next four years of your life—four years thathe won’t be here to witness. Remember that this barony and its people will look to you to be their strength as well as their conscience. Do everything you can to keep them safe,
“Father.” He struggled to keep his voice from cracking. “What are you doing?”
The baron took off his helm, laying it on the wooden feast table with an empty thud. He paused for a moment, gathering himself, then turned and placed his hand on his son’s shoulder gravely. “Sandon, I want you to understand that this was the last thing I wanted to do. Malaise and Lazuli have drained this barony of its resources, taken away everything that once made us rich and prosperous. Right now, all the people can do is fight starvation. If we’d had to pay another tribute so near the harvest, everyone would have starved before winter’s end.”
Holding his son’s shoulder, the baron turned to his brother. “Vilfrand?”
“Yes, Camiel?”
“It will fall to you to hold the throne for my son until he reaches eighteen years of age and can rightfully inherit. By the law of the barony, he cannot be made baron until he reaches his majority. I know that you weren’t born to rule any more than I was, but until such time as this barony can be ruled by its rightfulblood”—he met his brother’s eyes formally—“I name you regent of the throne.”
“By your will, Your Excellency.” Vilfrand bowed deeply, lowering his head to quickly cover the shine that rose in his eyes.
“Dad …”
“Sandon.” Baron Camiel faced his son gently, the stony hardness that had served him so well against Malaise tightening across his features once more. “Do as you’re told. Mind your uncle. Rule well, and govern wisely. And for Paladine’s sake, give up these foolish visions of knighthood. The Knights of Solamnia are far away, and they’re not coming to save us. We have to save ourselves. The people of Hartfall need you—not your daydreams.” For a moment, it looked as if the baron would say more, but he simply cleared his throat and stepped back. Baron Camiel patted his son on the shoulder and turned toward Vilfrand. “Come, Captain. We have little time, and much to do before your regency begins.” He crossed the room toward his official chamber, boots clacking sharply on the hard floor.
Vilfrand lingered for a moment beside Sandon. When the baron passed out of view, Captain Vilfrand looked down at Sandon with a quiet solemnity. “You know that he cares for you very much, Sandon.” Whenthe boy had no answer, his uncle continued. “He’s right about the knights. They aren’t coming. We have to accept that, and do the best we can without them.”
“The knights always come!” Sandon struggled to keep hope alive. “Weren’t you the one who told me that when I was just a boy?”
His uncle looked uncomfortable, and lowered his head. “Did you know, Sandon, that when I was your age, I wanted to go join the knighthood—just like you do?”
Surprised at this revelation, Sandon managed only, “You did? Then … why did you stay?”
Vilfrand shrugged lightly. “There was no money for me to make the journey. Besides, your father had just become baron, and he needed me here in Hartfall.” His blue eyes were pale with old memories. “Sometimes you have to give up a dream to do the right thing, Sandon. That’s what your father told me at the time, and I believe that’s what he’s doing right now. He’s giving up his own future, all the years he has left to spend with you, so that the barony can survive. He’s giving his death meaning. Don’t take that from him, Sandon, just because you feel cheated of a child’s dream.”
Sandon’s heart sank. “Yes … yes, Uncle.”
“Listen to me. I have to go to your father now and plan out the next four years of your life—four years thathe won’t be here to witness. Remember that this barony and its people will look to you to be their strength as well as their conscience. Do everything you can to keep them safe,
Similar Books
