An identical shield had been firmly attached to another post. Onric stepped towards it as the Council advisor continued to speak.
“This second shield, as I have already mentioned, arrived yesterday from the Council examiners. It has been spelled with an extra defense enchantment. This is the only one they have shared yet, and Iseldis is the only kingdom to receive one.”
Onric did not look back at the men in the courtyard to see their reactions. If Lord Munney was trying to flatter them all, he had chosen the wrong words. The eastern shores of Iseldis would be the first place the Majis would land upon. Everyone knew that Iseldis was the first line of defense. It would be folly for the examiners to send their first spelled item to western Etrar or northern Allyss. It would take more than flattery to impress the men on his father’s council. Onric himself had been trained by these men, sparring against them both as a child with a wooden sword and as a young man learning the intricacies of combat.
A small movement at the edge of the courtyard caught his attention. Ashlin was walking along the back wall, likely headed for the eastern tower to continue working on the tapestry. Her quiet movements had not been noticed by anyone else, and Onric was impressed that she could blend so well into the background. He caught her eye for a brief moment, and she smiled in response. Though at the same time, her raised eyebrows asked him what was going on. He gave her a small nod, encouraging her to stop and watch. As one of the only other people in the kingdom who had firsthand experience with a magical item, she had every right to be present at this particular event.
She seemed to have picked up on his meaning as she remained in the shadow of the door to the castle ruins, stopping to watch at his wordless invitation.
“Prince Onric, if you would?” Lord Munney had finally stopped talking and turned toward Onric.
Bringing his attention back to the matter at hand, Onric reached out and felt the spelled shield before he swung at it. It was firmly attached to the post behind it, and the smooth slabs of wood were compressed together tightly by three iron bands. He had told no one yet about the discovery of the needle working magic on the tapestry. He planned to tell his parents, but only once Ashlin had finished restoring at least one of the damaged panels. He knew his father would feel responsible for breaking one of the most important laws that united the five kingdoms, even though he had given his veiled permission for Onric to research the magic. So Onric was waiting to share their discovery until the needle had uncovered more valuable information.
But, having seen and felt the magic of the needle firsthand, he wanted to inspect the shield and see if he could sense the enchantment that had been placed upon it. His hand ran over the surface of the round disc. The wood was firmly dense, and the iron was icy cold. But that was no surprise, as it was mid-afternoon and the ground was still covered in a light layer of frost. Other than the expected sensations, he felt nothing else. He could not detect that hum of energy the needle had exhibited.
Even if he did not particularly care for Lord Munney, Onric wanted to believe this spelled shield would be a powerful tool for them. He reminded himself that the needle only hummed when it was in use, so his lack of sensing the magic did not necessarily mean that none was present.
He took half a step backward and raised his sword again, feeling the stable ground beneath his feet as he sank into his skeleton, his body firm and flexible as he had been trained. He was keenly aware that the very men who had taught him this were watching him now. He swung at the shield. Once again, his sword met the center of the small round disc in a resounding smack. He felt the impact resonate through his body from his hands on the hilt to his feet on the ground. The shield itself remained firmly in place.
Those assembled in the courtyard remained silent as they watched. A single blow, no matter how well delivered, would not destroy even the regular shield. Onric took a moment to recollect his breath and relax the muscles in his arm and shoulder as he prepared to raise the sword for a second strike.
He raised the sword again, gauged his attack, and struck the shield. It held firm.
This second blow brought a light murmur from the advisors. Onric glanced quickly at Ashlin, who smiled at him. The ache in his arm disappeared.
“As you can see,” Lord Munney said, not wasting a moment to make the appropriate impression, “this spelled shield is already stronger than its counterpart. Take another strike, Your Highness.”
Before Onric could reset his stance, the courtyard door opened again, this time banging loudly as his brother Ian strolled confidently through. He was still wearing his dark traveling clothes, and he pulled his leather riding gloves from his hand. Having likely just returned from the countryside training, he stopped short at the unusual gathering in the courtyard.
Onric grinned his welcome as the rest of the men turned to see who had entered.
“Ian, welcome back,” King Frederich said with a warm smile. “Anything to report?”
“No, Father. The training went quite as planned. You can be proud of our men,” Ian responded. “But what is going on here?”
Lord Munney bowed, seemingly eager to explain the arrival of the spelled shield for the third time that morning. “Prince Ian, I received a most welcome messenger from the Council in Chendas yesterday, and he brought with him a...”
“Wait,” King Frederich cut in, “let Ian take a swing at both shields and see if he can discern which is spelled.”
“Spelled?” Ian glanced at Onric, concern and accusation in his eyes.
“The examiners have sent us an enchanted shield,” Onric explained defensively. The last time he and Ian had spoken of a spelled item was when they had argued over the needle.
“Let’s give it a go, then,” one of Iseldis’s advisors called out. “See if this shield is as protective as we hope.”
“Give it a swing, Ian,” King Frederich encouraged.
Ian stepped forward, pulling his sword from the scabbard at his waist. It was not an item he usually carried on his person, but he obviously had not had a chance to change since arriving back at the palace.
Onric stepped aside to give his brother room in front of the two shields.
In a single smooth motion, Ian lifted his sword and swung at the normal shield. The wood split, breaking into multiple sections and sliding free of the iron ring that held it together.
The assembled men nodded, as though they had expected that, but they did not say anything.
“I surely hope that shield was not the spelled one,” Ian said, taking a step closer to the second shield.
Onric noted with jealousy how his older brother did not pause when he lifted his sword to take aim. His feet remained rooted to the ground, and he made the motion with ease. Ian had always bested him when they had scuffled as boys. Onric had once hoped that when they were both the same size, he would be able to beat his older brother, but Ian had always remained the stronger of the two.
