Tyndal laughed at her surprised reaction. “Those are giant hawks, my lady, enchanted with magic to bear riders. Of the riders, one is a fiery Kasari lass in the service of the Count. The other is a lady of the Alka Alon, though she has been transformed. Fairly intriguing traveling companions for a pack of vagabonds, wouldn’t you think?”
Chapter Fifteen
Kanlan, Lord of Anferny
The folk of Anferny Town are extremely friendly, hospitable, and welcoming of strangers. They behave in the manner of most Wilderlords, but maintain a few unique customs of their own. Though they are few in number, they enjoy a vibrant culture guided by their injured lord and his two charismatic children. It is an ideal little town in a fair little land, all the more remarkable for the strangeness of the neighboring regions.
From the Expedition Book of Anghysbel,
Recorded By Gareth of Vanador
There was a lot of excitement in the quiet town by the time we rode through the gates that afternoon. The giant hawks in the sky had started it, of course, as the populace realized that they were not normal birds, and that had raised an alarm. But shortly after the first of the merchants back from Midmarket arrived and carried the news of our visit – and our rank and position. As we slowly rode up the switchbacks to the town gate, an impromptu celebration developed. By the time we rode through the gates a sizable portion of the town had poured into the cobbled streets to cheer our arrival.
It was nothing, compared to the festivities I’d enjoyed in Barrowbell, Sevendor, Vorone, and even Castabriel. But what the crowd lacked in numbers they made up for in enthusiasm.
“They don’t see many folk from the south,” explained Lady Tandine, a little sheepishly, when Tyndal remarked about the turn-out. “Particularly nobles.”
“We don’t particularly look like nobles, right now,” I noted with a chuckle. “I’m not even wearing armor, much less my court finery.”
“It’s too bloody hot for either!” Tyndal complained. “We’re terribly far north, for it to be this hot. How can you stand it?”
“It is said that the ground beneath us brings the heat of the world to warm us,” Tandine said, amused at his discomfort. “In winter, while the snows bury our rooves, they rarely obscure our streets because of the subterranean heat. In summer, things can get a little . . . sweaty,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t think a bold, brave knight like yourself would be bothered by such a small inconvenience. After all, my lord has braved dragon fire,” she reminded him. She still didn’t quite believe him, I think, but she was at least open to the possibility.
“I’m merely concerned about the manly aroma that is arising as a result,” Tyndal said. “A conceit of the magi: without magic to cool and soothe, the heat becomes a distraction.”
“Thankfully, the pride of Anferny is our baths,” laughed Tandine. “They are heated by those very same fires. They’ve been here since the time of the Ancients. Our ancestors were prudent in developing them, for they toiled long to build this place and desired the comforts it could provide. They are among our most popular amenities,” she assured. “I strongly encourage you to make use of them. Soon.”
“I eagerly look forward to using them, my lady,” Tyndal said, proudly.
“I find myself looking forward to that, too, Sir Idiot,” she giggled, despite herself.
“I find myself looking forward to meeting your father, Lord Kanlan, my lady,” I said, wanting to head off the conversation before Tyndal decided to get crude. That was not only within his capabilities, but he also saw it as a source of pride. He could travel from charming to vulgar in a surprisingly short amount of time. “What can you tell me about him before we meet? Without betraying confidences, of course,” I added, mildly.
“My lord father has reigned over Anferny since my grandsire’s death,” she related with a sigh. “He married my mother, a maiden of House Niabel, in his youth, just before he took over the lordship of the domain when his sire passed away. She died of illness a few years after giving birth to my brother, Kanset,” she added, sadly. “As the elder sibling, I was raised to assume the lordship of the vale. Should I find a husband and . . . prove fertile.”
I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “Your people allow ladies to inherit rule?” That was not generally an Alshari custom. But there had been exceptions, I knew.
“That’s how my grandsire became lord of Anferny – he married my grandmother, who ruled for thirteen prosperous years. In Anferny, my lord, there are so few people that we elevate the best among us to the highest positions, regardless of our sex. It is the custom of the land,” she assured me. “Hence my inheritance of the domain, and not my brother’s.”
“That is fascinating,” Tyndal commented.
“You object, my lord?” Tandine asked, sharply.
“Me? Not at all, my lady,” Tyndal dismissed. “Among all the divisions between the sexes, wisdom shows no preference. Indeed, the leadership of the Court Wizard of Alshar, Baroness Pentandra, has been instrumental in the restoration of Duke Anguin to his rightful coronet. The duchess of Alshar, Princess Rardine, is accounted one of the most discerning and insightful rulers in the kingdom. And the queen, herself, Grendine of Alshar, is accounted among the most formidable rulers in history,” he assured.
“My vassal speaks truly,” I nodded. “A ruler need not don armor and wield a sword to be considered a good steward of the realm. Quite the contrary.”
“I can do both as well as any knight,” boasted Lady Tandine. “Try me on the listfield with lance and shield, if you doubt that, my lord. Or in the eric, with longsword, greatsword, axe, or mace. Or match your skill against mine at the butts, and I will show you what a bow can do. My lord father was determined, early on, to ensure that I was the equal of any man who asked for my hand. Or his better.”
“That is a paternal foresight I can truly appreciate,” I said, digging out my pipe as we came to the High Street of Anferny. “I have daughters, myself,” I explained.
It took most of the afternoon to get all our wagons up the slope and into town, and by the time the last one came in – driven by Gareth and Travid, both of whom looked tired and irritated – I had met the town’s mayor, his wife, a clerical delegation of five, and a few score other people of import from Anferny. All were eager to hear the news from the south, of course, though they rarely had the context to understand it. We spoke to them for a few hours. Lady Tandine finally escorted us to the castle gate, where her younger brother, Lord Kanset, was waiting for us, personally.
He seemed as youthful and vital as his sister, a handsome lad just a few years younger than Tyndal with dark hair and dark, intelligent eyes and a mischievous grin. He cheerfully bowed to Tyndal and I, and once the rest of our party caught up with us, he led us through the small courtyard and into the great hall of Anferny Castle.
“Well, this is cute,” Alya remarked in a low voice as we followed the brother and sister through the gate, where a large iron portcullis had been raised. “It’s small – smaller than Spellgarden,” she noted. “But they keep it up, well.”
“They likely don’t need much more castle than this,” I estimated. “That bailey could hold the entire town, at need. And that slope looks formidable. But who would attack them? The Tal Alon? The Kilnusk?”
“I believe they fear the creatures of the vale more than the people,” agreed Lilastien, who was walking behind me, escorted by Gareth. “I’ve heard two-dozen names of creatures I don’t recognize, already. And no talk of any real organized enemies.”
“They fight the lizard-people, sometimes, when they get riled, I heard from one of the townspeople,” Gareth admitted.
“Lizard people?” Alya asked, surprised.
“Some sort of humanoid reptile,” shrugged the Steward of Vanador. “They live in the swampy westernmost portion of the vale, from what I’m told. Very primitive. Stone and bone tools. They’re not generally war-like, but every now and then they will apparently harass one of the settlements in this region. There have eve
n been extended conflicts.”
“There are actually two or three species of such creatures dwelling on Callidore,” agreed Lilastien. “They didn’t originate here, I’m certain, but they came here at some point or other. I’ve never seen them before, but I’ve heard of them. Intelligent, but . . . primitive.”
“This is the first I’ve heard of such folk,” I admitted. “They aren’t Alon?”
“They are one of the Lost Races,” Lilastien explained. “The Vundel have invited many to Callidore, over the millennia. But this world is not always kind to such folk. Or they piss off the Vundel, and the Vundel destroy them,” she added, meaningfully.
“There are other Lost Races?” Alya asked, interested.
“Oh, a few,” Lilastien assured. “Perhaps even some of these strange creatures, here at the roof of the world. For all we know, the biberon was once intelligent. Not all such beings have two hands and two feet. The lizard people are a cautionary tale, one I hope humanity can avoid. I fear that, bereft of your tekka and your old civilization, humanity will end up like that, some day. Little more than animals living in the barest margins of the world. Indeed, the wild tribes of the Wilderlands are nearly there. It’s sad.”
On that dire note, we entered Castle Anferny. The place was well-kept and fairly well-appointed, if antiquated in design. Perhaps a score of men-at-arms or local knights manned the gate and the small towers, and enough notice had been given to the castle staff so that the delicious smell of roasting meat was everywhere, by the time we were ushered within to meet the lord of the castle.
“We’re preparing a welcome feast,” Lord Kanset grinned. “I ordered it as soon as we heard the news. It’s not often we get a count visiting us. Or much of anyone, actually.”
“We’ve never had a count visit us before,” Tandine dismissed. “The records say that there was a baron, once. I assume you will want to hold court for the fealty ceremony?” she asked, bluntly.
“It’s traditional,” I shrugged. “Wherever Lord Kanlan would like to do it, though, would be fine.”
“Our father is looking forward to it,” Kanset assured us, as he fetched a tray of old silver winecups from a servant. There didn’t seem to be many servants around the place, I noticed – a butler, a hall steward, and a couple of drudges. Far fewer than we employed at either Sevendor or Spellgarden. But then the castle was not terribly large, and it wouldn’t require an extensive staff. I took the cup and raised it gratefully to my lips. It had been more than a week since I’d tasted wine. It was good, too, although it had a distinctly different flavor than the vintages I was used to.
“And I look forward to meeting him,” I agreed. “It must take quite a man to keep a domain like this in good shape, without a ready liege or vassals to assist.”
“I’ve often thought that it was the lack of a ready liege or vassals that has contributed to our stability,” chuckled Kanset. “The histories seem to speak of nothing but war between them, back in the Wilderlands.”
“You make a valid point,” I smiled. “Thankfully the Magelaw is too new a realm to enjoy such strife, yet. My vassals have largely been appointed by me, personally, and did not inherit their lands and titles. And magelords have different interests than Wilderlords. Thus far, we haven’t even had much squabbling between nobles. We’ve been too busy fighting the goblins to indulge in petty feuds. But I’m anticipating them breaking out as soon as peace occurs,” I said, wryly.
“Remarkable!” Lord Kanset said, shaking his head. “An entire realm, ruled by wizards! I would dearly love to see some magic, some day,” he admitted. “The only wizard I’ve ever met is old Fondaras, there, back when I was a boy. He filled my head of tales from the Magocracy, and Old Perwyn, back then. Indeed, he inspired me to seek out such tales in our lamentably small library, and even the temple libraries.”
“I merely told you of the world beyond the wastes,” demurred the old footwizard. “And entertained a boy enduring a difficult time. A good lord should be aware of history, to support his own wise rule. It gladdens me that I had such an effect.”
“We heard that my lord was a scholar, more than a knight,” Alya smiled.
“Oh, I tilt and take swordplay with the men, but I find it boring,” he sighed. “I mostly manage my father’s estates and let my sister chase down the odd monster who comes this far south. Studying magic would be far more interesting. Tell me, my lords, are the giant birds you brought with you a product of this magic?”
“Of course,” Lilastien agreed. “I designed the enchantment, myself. Along with my granddaughter, Ithalia. She’ll be along shortly, after she sees to her feathery mount.”
“Lady Lilastien is a spellsinger of rare repute, as well as a physician of the highest order,” Alya informed him. “Back home she is known as the Sorceress of Sartha Wood. She is herself transformed, as she has done the hawks. She is a noble of the Alka Alon.”
“You’re an elf?” he asked, in disbelief, gawking at her anew.
“As you would call it,” she chuckled. Lilastien was not the kind of Alkan who would find the term offensive. “But, yes, I am of the Versaroti kindred of the Alka Alon. Of late I am in service to your noble count to assist in this damnable war.”
“And you’re a physician as well, my lady?” Lady Tandine asked, in surprise, as she joined us with Tyndal and Gareth.
“Seven years of advanced medical education on Perwyn, and four board certifications,” she offered. “And then I’ve been in rural practice for six hundred years. Why? Is there sickness in the land?”
The brother and sister exchanged an anxious glance. “It is just . . . well, it may become apparent, when my lord father joins us. He was injured two years ago. The good clergy tended his wounds, but he has not truly been hale since, and it concerns us,” Kanset explained.
“He is too young a man to be so stricken,” Tandine agreed, sorrowfully. “I lapse into despair, sometimes, when I think of what he has been robbed of by his injury. My brother and I have done our best to ease the burden of rule for him, but . . .”
“I will be happy to take a look at him, young lady, after the ceremony this evening. If he permits,” she assured, patting her new device.
“He has had every other leech and monk study the matter; I daresay he will not mind an elf examine him. An Alka Alon,” he corrected.
“ ‘Alkan’ is the singular,” I informed him. “What is the nature of his injury?”
“He was riding against a spinteca pack,” Kanset said, sadly.
“That’s a vicious kind of predator from beyond the Plain of Pillars,” Tandine explained, quickly. “Arachnids the size of goats with powerful claws. They hunt in packs,” she added with a shudder.
“My lord father’s horse threw him, and before he could rise one of the evil things slashed through his back. We almost lost him. But he has not walked properly since, and rarely leaves the castle, now,” Kanset sighed, sadly.
Indeed, a few moments later when Lord Kanlan finally came down the stairs from his chamber, I could see why his children were so distraught. He was a tall, bearded Wilderlord of regal bearing, broad across the shoulders with well-muscled arms bulging under his tunic. But, alas, his legs were twisted and barely moved as two servants assisted him down the long staircase. I could tell by his expression that such movement pained him greatly . . . but when he finally made it down the stairs, he did his best to pull himself up to his full height before executing a bow.
“Count . . . Minalan, I assume?” he asked in a deep booming voice.
“I am,” I agreed, returning the bow. “And you are Lord Kanlan, I am told. Well met, my lord. Thank you for such a welcome for strangers making outlandish claims.”
“If Fondaras the Wise vouches for you, you have my trust,” he assured me. His voice sounded breathless, and his eyes were unfocused. No doubt he had taken a draught of some pain remedy before appearing before his liege. “Fondaras has advised my court, and the court of my father, since I was a boy, when h
is journeys bring him to Anferny,” he explained, slowly. It was as if every word was a struggle.
I made further introductions to my company, surprising the lord with the odd collection of travelers I’d brought along with me on my quest. In deference to his frailty, Alya kindly suggested we retire to chairs out in the courtyard to enjoy wine and the waning day, while the hall was prepared for the ceremony and the feast. Tandine quickly agreed – she watched her father like a hawk, alert for any problems.
We spent perhaps two hours catching up the nobility of Anferny with the news from the rest of the Duchy once we settled into the courtyard. Lord Kanlan was shocked and surprised at the great developments since the last time Fondaras had guested in his halls. The rise of King Rard was of particular interest to him. As was the continuing war.
“Alas, the gods have kept us busy with the creatures of the vale, else I would have ridden south to add my sword to the defense of the realm, when I heard tale of it,” he sighed. “That was shortly before my . . . accident.”
“One more domain’s worth of swords would not have mattered in the prosecution of the war,” I assured him. “You were right to resist the impulse. It has taken magic and great armies to fight the gurvani and those behind them. Swords and lances, while helpful, would not have prevailed without magic to support them.”
“Still, it was my duty,” Lord Kanlan said, glumly. “It is good that the Anferny folk go seek brides to the south, from time to time. My great-grandmother was from Vorone,” he added. “We may be remote, my lord, but we do remember our duty.”
“Then it is time the rest of the Wilderlands remember its duty to Anferny,” I replied. “Too long has your country been left without support or guidance. Or even the commerce that is the lifeblood of any domain. I’m very impressed with this little land, but I want to help you improve your lot, here.”
“And I expect you are wondering where seventy years’ worth of tribute has gone,” he sighed, grimly. “I suppose in that duty we, too, have been lax. We have always known that the demand for such money could come at any time . . . I know from experience how expensive it is to properly run a domain. And we have a little saved over the years . . .”
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