The Changing of the Guard, page 1
The Changing of the Guard: And Other Stories of Myrcia
J.S. Mawdsley
Published by J.S. Mawdsley, 2021.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
THE CHANGING OF THE GUARD: AND OTHER STORIES OF MYRCIA
First edition. March 20, 2021.
Copyright © 2021 J.S. Mawdsley.
ISBN: 978-1393815310
Written by J.S. Mawdsley.
Also by J.S. Mawdsley
Of Duty and Silver
The Queen's Tower
For Her Own Good
Royal Obligation
Reunion Vale
The Last Bright Angel
Of Duty and Silver: The Complete Series
Reign of the Eagle
Black Eagle Rising
Siege of Kings
Unspeakably Wooed
Standalone
A Fatal Humor
One False Step: And Other Stories of Myrcia
Above His Station: And Other Stories of Myrcia
Every Count Votes
A Fine Distinction: And Other Stories of Myrcia
The Changing of the Guard: And Other Stories of Myrcia
The Metal of Victory
The Web in the Palace: And Other Stories of Myrcia
Gilding the Lily: And Other Stories of Myrcia
The Night Nothing Happened: And Other Stories of Myrcia
Watch for more at J.S. Mawdsley’s site.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Also By J.S. Mawdsley
Introduction
Lessons Abroad
A Quiet Boy
The Changing of the Guard
In Her Good Books
Just for the Holidays
Sign up for J.S. Mawdsley's Mailing List
Also By J.S. Mawdsley
About the Author
Introduction
Reunion Vale could very easily never have existed. Royal Obligation is a novel we wrote in order to fill the gap between For Her Own Good and The Last Bright Angel (the latter of which will be available for pre-order soon). But even though Royal Obligation covered several years of Myrcian history, there remained an eight-year gap between it and The Last Bright Angel. We asked ourselves if we needed another book to catch readers up on what had been going on in Myrcia, and our answer was...maybe.
As far as the plot of the Of Duty and Silver series, skipping from Royal Obligation to The Last Bright Angel would likely prove fine, but what of the characters? We have many books planned and some even drafted that come after the end of the Of Duty and Silver series, and ideally, we feel as though readers will be more excited about those books if there are characters they already care about. And speaking of characters the readers, hopefully, care about, what of the new characters we introduced in the first three books of the series? Do they not deserve closure?
And that is how Reunion Vale was born. We wanted our readers to meet Robert Tynsdale and William Aitkin, who eventually become quite important to Myrcian history. And after introducing Presley Kemp and Grigory Sobol and their romance, well, we weren’t ready to let them go, and based on the lovely feedback we’ve received from readers, they weren’t either.
So, we wrote Reunion Vale, and relished the time we got to spend with these and other characters. And, of course, that also meant we wrote some short stories about these characters and their lives before Reunion Vale. This includes Agnessa, who will be a POV character in The Last Bright Angel. Collected here are the short stories we have already shared on our website and with our newsletter subscribers, as well as two new stories, never before published. The first story, “Lessons Abroad,” takes place in the Sahasran city of Briddobad, and we’ve shared our map of the city at the end.
If you haven’t read Reunion Vale or any other novel in the Of Duty and Silver series, never fear. These stories stand entirely on their own. So whether you’re new or have read everything we’ve written, we hope you enjoy diving into this collection.
J.S. Mawdsley, March 2021
Lessons Abroad
327-328 M.E.
Grigory couldn’t stop blushing. He felt ridiculous, and he knew that anyone who saw him would know he was embarrassed. If only it were summer, and he could pass the redness off as a sunburn. But here on a winter almost as cold as those at home in Loshadnarod, his traitorous pale skin betrayed him.
“I didn’t offend you, did I?” whispered Ganesh beside him. “I, well, I thought perhaps you might feel the same.”
The problem, the very real problem, was that Grigory felt exactly the same. But unlike Ganesh, he would never have said so aloud. Not even alone in his room with all the doors and windows closed, and certainly not at a supper at the home of one of their professors.
But there had always been something different about Ganesh, which probably explained why Grigory had taken to him as soon as he arrived in Briddobad. Even though Ganesh was Sahasran and should, therefore, not have felt like an outsider here, he was. He’d been born into the Rathla caste, like many of the students, but his family had lost nearly everything, and all they had left was a single decrepit manor house, their ancient title, and their dented family pride.
Grigory, of course, was a very literal outsider, and the first Loshadnarodski many of the boys at school had met. There was a Loshadnarodski district on the east end of town, full of wool merchants and silversmiths, but none of the other students ever went there. If they needed something from those shops, they had servants to send. No one at the school ever treated him in a hostile or cruel manner, but no one, save Ganesh, had made much of an attempt to befriend him, either.
Their relationship had grown slowly, but steadily since Grigory’s first year at school. Grigory had thought this clever, older boy (Ganesh was two years Grigory’s senior), was surely the most handsome boy in the world. Grigory had loved to let his eyes drift over Ganesh’s dark skin, and the exciting way his lithe frame moved entranced Grigory. Back in Loshadnarod, all the boys were huge and pale and awkward. Ganesh was a revelation.
Grigory had begun to suspect even before coming to Sahasra Deva that he felt differently about boys than he was supposed to. He had no doubt that women held no interest for him, the two girls at home who had secretly kissed him making him feel nothing, and the scantily clad dancers in Briddobad boring him. On the other hand, he had always been captivated by good looking men, and Ganesh caused his entire body to tingle.
Still, even after knowing him for more than a year, he had not known for certain if Ganesh felt anything like the same for Grigory. And he would have never guessed that Ganesh would bring up the topic at such an inappropriate moment. But he often seemed to find particular joy in doing what he should not, whether it be as simple as taking a short cut though the temple or as monumental as attending a school far more expensive than his family could afford. It shouldn’t surprise Grigory that if Ganesh were to bring up this subject, he would do so here at this party.
Grigory looked around them anxiously. Professor Tamboli was no more than three feet away! Ganesh could not possibly expect him to answer.
“Say something, Grigory. Please!” Ganesh’s voice, always so excitable, held even more of a frantic edge than usual. At least it was soft. “I can’t apologize for saying that you’re beautiful. Or for saying that I want you. It’s all true. I couldn’t lie about it anymore. If you can’t return my feelings, please forgive me. But Grigory.” He reached out his hand and let his fingertips drag down Grigory’s forearm. “I don’t think you do feel differently. I think you want the same.”
“I,” Grigory started in a whisper, but then stopped, trying to move them farther into a corner behind a fern before continuing. “The problem is not that I feel differently. I, well, I feel very much the same.” He ducked his chin to his chest, cheeks burning, eyes refusing to make contact with Ganesh.
“Then what’s the matter?” Ganesh moved his fingers farther up Grigory’s arm, and it made his stomach ache.
“It is wrong, isn’t it? In Loshadnarod I would be cast out if they knew what I was. It is not so different here, either, I believe.”
“What do I care about being an outcast? What do I have to lose? An estate my family can’t afford to maintain anyway? A place at court I’m unlikely ever to have? I don’t care, and neither should you.”
Grigory had always obeyed his elders and what they taught him. The thought of tossing that aside and not caring, it was frightening. But here he was, thinking about betraying everything he had been taught to believe for this lovely young man. Could he really forget all he had been taught for the sake of beautiful Ganesh? But Ganesh was not some insignificant person—he was Grigory’s one friend here, and the man who also wanted to toss it all aside for Grigory. When he put it in those terms, his feelings went beyond just fear.
“Is there somewhere we can go to be alone?” Grigory asked.
THAT FIRST TIME IN the single room Ganesh lived in over a stationary store was fumbling and a little painful. But also somehow a little perfect. They were natural students, so they studied the problem and applied various solutions until they found something that felt good to them both. When that happened, Grigory found it hard to stay away.
Ganesh had the busier schedule. In addition to classes, he earned extra money as an assistant acolyte at the great Vidhi Temple up the hill. As Ganesh
They went on this way for half a year, no one ever commenting on it. Grigory noticed, though, that several other boys at the school seemed especially close. When he asked, Ganesh said in Sahasra Deva, or at least in Briddobad, what boys did in school was overlooked for the most part, as long as no one got literally caught with his pants down, as the Myrcians had it. Grigory longed to ask what these boys did after school, but Ganesh showed no inclination to address that next logical question. Yet, surely, some of these boys were in love. Grigory was with Ganesh. He did not want to think it had to end once they finished their studies. Of course, Grigory was meant to go home in another year and a half, but if Ganesh asked him to stay, he would.
“What do you want to do when you finish at the college?” Grigory asked one night. They had just made love and still lay naked on Ganesh’s bed, reluctant to dress again given the summer heat. It was as close as Grigory thought he could get to the question he really wanted to ask—“What do you want to do with me when we are done with school?”
“Build things!” Ganesh rolled over onto his back and smiled wildly up at the ceiling. “I don’t even care what. I’ll build sewers if that’s what people want. I just want to create something and have people point at it and say, ‘Ganesh Nagarkar made that.’”
His enthusiasm was infectious, and Grigory found himself smiling as well. It wasn’t an answer to his unasked question, but he couldn’t blame Ganesh for not answering that one. Maybe some other night, Grigory would find the courage to ask that question, but for now, he would content himself with joining Ganesh’s dream.
“But if you could choose, what would you build?”
“Hmm.” Ganesh folded his hands under his head and thought hard about the question. “Have you ever been south? All the way down to Aryavarta?”
Grigory shook his head. Briddobad, here in the extreme north of Sahasra Deva, was as far south as he had ever been in the world.
“It’s this amazing port town. I was there once with my uncle, and it’s just incredible. Docks and ships everywhere, and not the slightest bit of thought put into any of it. Everyone just grabbed their own little piece of the coast and built a dock without any plan. I’d love to tear it all down and do it properly. Long piers and break walls. A good dry dock nearby.” He sighed and rolled over toward Grigory, and Grigory rolled on his side to face him. “I could make it the most magnificent port the world has ever seen. I just need some torches to get what’s there out of the way.”
And then Ganesh leaned in and kissed Grigory, and in that moment, Grigory wanted nothing more than to jump onto a boat and sail down the Darunadi River and set fire to anything that displeased Ganesh.
GRIGORY AND GANESH both loved their studies—math and the natural sciences bringing them immense joy. This fact was fortunate, Grigory realized, when he saw how other young men, either wrapped up in girls or with another boy, allowed their grades to slip. But Grigory found special pleasure in contemplating the elegance of geometry while trailing his fingertips along Ganesh’s naked back. They were perfect for each other, and as their first year together was nearing its close, Grigory thought a great deal about how lucky he was to have found Ganesh.
One day, Ganesh took Grigory to see the new lift being built at a new palace west of the city, on the northern slopes of Chamalee Hill. Being a Sobol and growing up at Loshadnarod’s mines, Grigory had a great passion for lifts. He had ridden a lift down into a mine for the first time when he was only four with his cousin Anna. Ever since, he wanted to know all he could about the devices. So far, he had seen very few, and never before one under construction, except back home. This was a remarkable opportunity, and Grigory did not hesitate in saying yes.
At the worksite, they were fortunate enough to meet the man who had designed it, Naveen Gundersen, a man not many years older than they were. He came from Wardha, a city on the Annenstruker border, the country of his father’s birth. He had studied in Hovedby, capital of Annenstruk, where all the world’s best engineers studied. Hearing they were both hoping to become engineers, and that Grigory had a particular interest in lifts, he gave them a tour of the worksite and showed them his sketches.
Ganesh would normally have been as fascinated as Grigory, but every time Grigory turned to him with wonder in his eyes, hoping to share the excitement of the moment, Ganesh’s mind seemed elsewhere. Grigory thought about asking if something might be bothering him, but for the past month, Ganesh had snapped anytime Grigory had asked if he were well, saying he had not slept well or had a lot of reading for class. It could be true—his eyes were dark underneath and Grigory’s workload seemed to increase daily. Perhaps he worried as much as Grigory did about what would happen once they graduated in a little over a year and he was supposed to return home.
After leaving the worksite, they walked down to the shore of Lake Almis, where one could often find a boat to take one back into the city. They perched on a rock, shivering in the sort of biting cold that often presaged snow. For a long time, neither of them spoke, contenting themselves with staring at the deep blue water. But Ganesh fidgeted, never quite comfortable, and Grigory thought, perhaps, a chat about nothing of consequence would do him good.
“I think Master Gundersen is very nice. I’m glad we came today. He will probably have to stop work for the winter soon.”
“Yes.” Ganesh paused, never looking at Grigory, and not showing any intent to say more. Just when Grigory was about to suggest they start walking back toward town along Panee Road, the action sure to warm them up, Ganesh continued. “I have a lot of work coming up. I thought it would be good to do something with you today, because we’re going to have to see less of each other.”
“That’s not necessarily true. Whatever you’re working on, I can surely help.”
“No. And if you’re around, I’ll get distracted.” Ganesh finally looked at him and swiftly squeezed Grigory’s thigh. “It will be safer for my grades if you come over less often.”
Grigory longed to protest, but he could think of no words. While he still searched for some, Ganesh jumped to his feet. Grigory followed suit, stumbling to his own.
“Let’s walk back,” Ganesh said. “The exercise will be good.”
Grigory put one foot in front of the other until they reached Briddobad proper, but he barely noticed anything he saw or heard along the way. Even the sight of the city rising up Chidiya Hill like a pile of jeweled boxes, even the mist and the thunder of Adhik Falls as they passed over the Madyan Road bridge failed to capture his attention. He only thought about how he might change Ganesh’s mind. Perhaps once he knew more about these projects, he could better explain how much he could help. Surely Ganesh would be willing to accept his help once Grigory proved his usefulness.
ON THE OCCASIONS THEY saw each other, Grigory could never get Ganesh to talk about the specifics of the work he had that kept him so busy. Grigory was growing frantic, missing his closest friend, as well as their intimacy. Yet, he could not find any way to penetrate the sudden, cold wall Ganesh had erected.
Once in a while, he would open the door in that wall, and for an afternoon they would again revel in their closeness. Except, that was not entirely accurate. They would make love, but they no longer lingered naked, discussing classes or daydreaming together. Instead, Ganesh would leap from the bed and dress, not merely needing to do things around his room, but to go out, making it clear Grigory should not remain behind. This behavior pained Grigory, but he said nothing, afraid the door would remain closed if he asked how he might be allowed to keep it open.
