Chapter 1: Smalltown Boy

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 still thought of himself as a boy, but the world now viewed him as an adult, albeit a young one. He was above average in height for his age and had a lean, well-toned body, the product of a childhood spent swimming, playing ball sports, sailing, and running. He had brown hair, with a side fringe, cut at the back to just above his shirt collar and at the front swept to the side above his eyes. He preferred clothes in natural colours, such as browns, greens, and greys, and he currently wore a pair of brown boots with brown trousers and a drab green shirt under a grey sweater.

He had been on a trip to the country’s largest – and only – city several times before. The Seibjerg capital and main port sat where the Storflot River became too shallow for the larger sea-going cargo and passenger ships. So, in addition to being the seat of the Seibjerg government, it was also where cargo and passengers were transferred from large vessels into smaller river barges, and vice versa.

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 average childhood. His best subject, by far, was languages. He was obviously fluent in his country’s language, Seibjern, as well as in Standard, the common business and diplomatic language of the Anaroc Alliance and Reijik, the language of the Reiland. He had a working knowledge of several other regional languages as well.

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, despite being in her early forties at the time.

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

As he had approached his eighteenth 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 in 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 that course.

The letter also contained a one-way ticket to Chatamor City. He’d need to change boats in Roligvan, so it also provided him with details of overnight lodgings reserved for him. Strangely, it instructed him to call at a different address in Roligvan upon arrival. He’d also been given the name and address of a lodging in Chatamor City, where he’d assumed he’d stay until term started and then move into the university accommodation that was included in the fees.

The afternoon was turning to evening as they approached Roligvan, and the landscape changed again, this time from farming plains to industrial and then residential areas. 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. 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 dropped from chilly to cold. At least the lodging house looked reasonably smart from the outside. He entered the door and found a woman sitting behind 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 looked him up and down, as if assessing whether he was the sort of person she wanted in her lodging house, then 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 with toilet facilities. As lovely as he’d had at home, if not a little more so. He flopped on the bed 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 a pleasant feeling at all.

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 thin jacket, scarf, gloves and a cap out of his backpack, he put them on and set off to see what the mystery was about.

The onset of dusk had lessened the crowds in the street. 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. “Come in,” he said to Rhys, who stepped across the threshold. The man closed and bolted the door behind Rhys, then held his hand out. “Welcome, Rhys. I’m glad you got here 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 broke the handshake and smiled. “I suppose so, but please follow me, and things will become clearer.” He led Rhys down a short corridor and into a room. Rhys followed.

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 Rhys was comfortable with. 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.