Chapter 1

Rhys Atherton stood on the deck of the passenger barge as it made its way downriver, watching as the scenery of mountains, forests and lakes that he knew from his childhood slowly changed into the lowland plain where most of the population of Seibjerg lived. Farms appeared with livestock and arable crops surrounding small villages.

He’d been on the trip down to the largest Seibjerg city – the only actual city of any size – several times before. Roligvan was the major port and capital of Seibjerg, and to Rhys, it was a metropolis. It sat where the Storflot River became too shallow for the larger sea-going cargo and passenger ships. So, as well as the seat of the Seibjerg government, it was where cargo and passengers moved from the large vessels into smaller river barges and the opposite for outgoing people and goods.

Rhys had grown up an orphan in the small village of Solvstrom, raised by his adoptive mum, Aoline. They lived in a lovely, average house in a friendly, average village with an average amount of money, and he’d had a very average life so far. He’d attended the village school, been average at all his studies and had been on good terms with all the other children and adults. A perfectly unremarkable childhood. His best subject, by far, was languages. He was obviously fluent in his country’s language, Seibjern, but also in Standard, the common language of the Anaroc Alliance and could converse in several other regional languages.

The only remarkable thing about his life was that Aoline didn’t seem to have any source of income, yet they never had money worries. It was only as he grew older that it had occurred to him. Aoline would never discuss it, only saying that she had a pension from a previous job, even though she was only in her mid-forties.

His friends had gradually dropped out of school after turning 16 to work in the timber mill and become loggers, or they had just drifted away to find work elsewhere, so only a handful of people were left in his year group.

As he approached his 18^th birthday, a letter had arrived for him. He’d opened it and been frankly astonished to see he’d been awarded an all-fees-paid scholarship to the University of Chatamor, the most prestigious university in the neighbouring country of Reiland and, indeed, in the whole Anaroc Alliance. The course he’d be enrolled on was called “General Studies”, but when Rhys had gone to the school library to look at the prospectus for that university, there was no mention of it.

The letter also contained a one-way ticket to Chatamor City. He’d need to change boats in Roligvan, so it also gave him details of overnight lodgings reserved for him and instructed him to call at a different address in Roligvan when he got there. He’d also been given the name and address of a lodging in Chatamor City, where he’d stay until term started.

The afternoon was turning to evening as they approached Roligvan, and the landscape again changed from farming to industrial and then residential. Before long, the barge was manoeuvring towards its berth at the river passenger terminal. Rhys could see the large sea-going ships berthed at the sea docks further down the river. He’d be on one of those tomorrow!

The barge eventually docked, and Rhys went indoors to pick up his luggage. He had a small backpack and a larger trunk – just enough for a few days at sea. He hefted his backpack onto his shoulder – the crew would have his trunk delivered to his lodgings within two hours – and walked down the gangway and back onto firm land.

He’d been here in the past, but this was the first time on his own. He felt a pang of loneliness and thought back to his mum standing on the jetty at Solvstrom, waving to him as the barge pulled away. He could tell she’d been trying not to cry, but she couldn’t hide the tears from him. He’d been less upset then, simply waving, shouting goodbye and promising to visit and write regularly. But now he was on his own in the biggest city he knew, and he knew no one and nothing.

He shook his head, trying to focus on the task at hand. He saw the line of horse-drawn cabs lined up, and his mum had given him a money purse to use on his journey. Something inside his head told him to walk instead. It was just a feeling, but the barge crew had given him directions to his lodgings, and it wasn’t far, so he walked. He set out, and as he walked towards the city centre and the number of people around him in the streets gradually increased, he started to feel uncomfortable. He was a village boy, not a city boy. He put his head down and carried on walking.

Eventually, he arrived at his lodging just as the daylight faded and the temperature went from chilly to cold. At least the lodging house looked reasonably smart from the outside. He entered the door and found a woman standing by a small desk. He pulled the letter he’d received at home from his jacket pocket, quickly re-read it and approached her. “Good afternoon. Do you have a room in the name of the Minshull Foundation?”

She found a key and gave him directions to his room.

Rhys found the room, unlocked the door and walked in. He was surprised to see that the room was very nice. It had a large bed, quality furnishings and a fire burning brightly in the grate. There was a private bathroom and toilet facilities. As lovely as he’d had at home, if not a little more so. He flopped on the bed on his back and took several deep breaths. Again, he felt alone. He’d always had his mum around, his friends, or one of their parents. Yet here he was, the best part of a day’s sailing from everyone he knew. It wasn’t at all a pleasant feeling.

He could feel himself drifting off to sleep, and he knew he had to visit the address given in his letter today, so he raised himself off the bed. Pulling a scarf, gloves and a cap out of his backpack, he put them on and set off to see what the mystery was about.

The crowds in the street had lessened now that dark was approaching. It was a ten-minute walk to the address. When he arrived, he knocked on the heavy wooden door. A panel in the door slid open, and a set of eyes peered out at him before the panel closed again, and he could hear bolts being pulled back behind the door.

The door opened to reveal a tall man standing behind it. He held his hand out. “Welcome, Rhys. I’m glad you made it safely,” he said.

Rhys shook the man’s hand. “I’ve no idea why I’m here, but thank you for your welcome.”

The man let go of Rhys’s hand and smiled. “I suppose so, but please follow me, and things will become clearer.”

Rhys entered the house. The man closed and bolted the front door before leading Rhys down a short corridor and into a room. Rhys followed, and the man closed the door.

The room looked like a library; the walls were lined with bookshelves containing books of all sizes and, judging by their condition, of all ages. A fire roared in the fireplace, making the room warmer than comfortable. A woman sat in one of four leather chairs arranged by the fire. She looked older than anyone Rhys had ever seen. Joshua’s grandfather back in Solvstrom was supposed to be over 60 years old, and she looked even older than him! She was looking at him with interest.

Rhys remembered his manners and offered her his hand, which she took. “Good evening. I’m Rhys,” he said to her.

“Yes, I know,” she smiled at him. “It is good to meet you again. Please...” and indicated the seat opposite her.

Rhys wanted to ask what she meant by “again”, but he just removed his gloves, hat, scarf, and jacket and sat down in the chair indicated. The man who’d shown him in took his discarded outerwear and hung them on a coat stand by the door before sitting next to the woman.

“It’s an old cliché, but I expect you’d like to know why you’re here?” asked the woman. Rhys smiled slightly and nodded.

The woman gestured towards the man sitting next to her. “Firstly, manners. This is William. We’re members of an organisation called the Minshull Foundation.” The name under which Rhys’s room at the lodging had been reserved. “We’re working towards a better and more just world for everyone.

“You’ve been raised in an out-of-the-way village in an out-of-the-way country in the Anaroc Alliance,” she continued. “As you’ll remember from your history lessons, the Alliance began after the Westerling Wars when the countries that had been attacked agreed to help defend each other should they be attacked again. The five smaller countries are much like each other. Seibjerg, Asterlia, Rovina, Wenland and Munnin.

“They all have their problems, but, by and large, they are decent places to live and are well-governed. But Reiland is more prominent and affluent and likes to throw its weight around. It dominates the Alliance, and as the Alliance expanded to include trade and travel, it’s become even more dominant.

“Reiland is an authoritarian place to live. The King is an absolute monarch. He uses any means to maintain his power and, consequently, makes the lives of the majority of his people a misery. Reiland has a strict social hierarchy. The King is at the top, his nobles below him and then downwards. The people on the lowest rung are effectively destitute, surviving however they can. And then there are the slaves. They have no rights at all. Children born to slaves are slaves. They have no way to liberate themselves.

“Reiland’s social structure is starting to affect the other Alliance countries. Under normal circumstances, what Reiland’s King does is his own business. However, we cannot allow him to infect the other Alliance countries with his ideas. Already, we have raids around our borders with Reiland where people disappear. Evidence shows they’re taken to Reiland before disappearing into their ‘system’.

“The Minshull Foundation is an unofficial group of people from all the countries of the Alliance – yes, including from Reiland – who want to change this. We cannot openly accuse Reiland of attacking our countries – that would lead to an all-out war, which Reiland will surely win, and to them applying their society’s standards onto our population. It would effectively mean enslaving the majority of our people, and obviously, we can’t allow that.

“So, the only way of protecting the five countries is to encourage Reiland to change and make it more compatible with the rest of us. We can’t do that by force, so we must find another way.

“Which brings us to you, Rhys,” she said, looking intently at him. “Will you help us?”

“Me?” asked Rhys. “Why me?”

“Ah,” said the woman, “that’s fair. We hope you have certain talents that would help our cause. So, we’re offering you a deal. You get to go to the best university in the Alliance. All we ask is to promise us you’ll work on your degree and at least consider helping us whenever you can. The worst-case scenario is you walk away with the best university degree and a great start in life, and the Foundation is no better and no worse off.”

“What do you mean by ‘talents’?” Rhys asked.

“That we don’t know,” the woman replied. “We know something of your biological parents. They were founding members of the Foundation, and we helped find someone to care for you while you grew up. We’ve supported Aoline and you since you were small at your biological parents’ request. They were special people, and we hope you may have inherited some of that. Now, I tell you this not so you feel indebted to us. I tell you this because you asked, and if you did inherit some of their talents, it may help you understand better when they start to manifest.

“It is not for me to tell you your parents’ story. I know you’ll find that out when the time is right. Like everything we’ve discussed tonight, it’s your decision.

“That reminds me. William? Do you have it?”

William nodded, reached into his pocket and produced a tiny box. He handed it to Rhys, who took it and opened it. Inside, there was a ring. A simple gold band with a few small stone insets around the outside. Almost like multicoloured grains of salt.

“It is a gift from your father,” said the woman. “It’s a very special thing. Please look after it. If you want to wear it, it goes on the ring finger of your right hand.”

Rhys took the ring from the box and examined it closely. Then he slipped it on the finger William had advised. It fit perfectly, as though it was made for him.

The woman and William smiled gently and nodded at each other.

“We have one more thing for you to consider. I’m sure your head is full of questions about the future and the past, most of which we can’t answer, partly because you need to leave shortly but mostly because we don’t know the answers ourselves. So, we’d like you to consider having one of our members accompany you on the journey to Chatamor and maybe show you around. They’ll be able to talk to you about what these talents you may inherit may be like and, importantly, what you need to know to make the most of your time in Chatamor and how to move in Reiland society.

“You’re going to have doubts once you see them so, to save time as we are running out of it, I’ll just say this: Yes, they do know what they’re doing and, yes, they are happy to be your companion on this journey, however long that may be. Will you meet them and let them accompany you?”

Rhys was slightly spooked, but he did have so many questions, and he liked the sound of someone to accompany him on the three-day sea voyage to Chatamor, so he nodded his assent.

The woman nodded back to him. “Then we will bid you farewell, for now, and good luck. I’m sorry not to have given you my name, but, like most things we have discussed tonight, all will be revealed when the time is right. Goodnight, Rhys, and good luck. I hope we will meet again. Please wait here for a few minutes. Your companion will come in. Talk to them briefly, let yourselves out, and return to your lodging.”

William held his hand out, and Rhys shook it. William nodded, then turned and followed the woman out of the room. Rhys sank back into his chair, only to be roused seconds later by a knock on the door. He went across to the door and opened it, and his heart felt like it had stopped.

In the corridor was a young woman. She wore a head-to-toe cloak, so he could only see her face. She looked like she was around his age, probably a little older, but it was hard to tell.

“You’ll need your warm clothes,” she told him in Standard. “It’s getting cold out there.” Her accent implied she was well educated. He nodded and went to get his jacket, scarf, gloves and hat. He started to put them on, but she stopped him.

“I see you’re wearing your father’s ring,” she said. “Hold my hand for a second.”

Rhys thought it was an odd request – if it had been a request – but, as she held her hand out from under her cloak, he reached out and took it. As soon as he did, he tried to pull away as what felt like an electric shock shot up his arm. But the woman held on to him for a second or two before releasing him.