by P R Glazier
Chapter 2. A New Day
OOF! Nar’Allia was again awakened, but this time she was not in the deep sleep of the dead of night, she was in the light sleep of the morning. So she quickly realised exactly how she had been awakened. Two heavy bodies had bounced onto her bed. She groaned to excited cries of, “Narny, Narny, wake up, wake up!
She tried to turn over and grab a few more minutes of solitude. But someone had thrown open the curtains and the soft light of father moon, that only seemed like five minutes ago had been shining through the cloth, was now replaced with the moon’s partner, his spouse, the much brighter and brash mother sun. Bah! The confounded woman was doing her best to shine directly into Nar’Allia’s eyes. Nar’Allia felt wisps of hair on her face, not her own for she knew her own auburn locks were tied back in many ribbons to persuade it into curls for this day of days. Nar’Allia opened one eye slowly, to be met by two blue eyes staring down into her face. She groaned, closed her eye once again and said, “Solvienne, do you have to sit on me so?”
She felt a length of her hair gathered in a hand and lifted so that she felt its roots being tugged, her head was lifted slightly off the pillow, “ouch, OUCH. STOP THAT!”.
“Come on Narny, you need to get up, we need to tidy your hair and you need to put on your lovely dress, and choose your jewellery, and ………..”
Nar’Allia groaned again and grabbing the pillow from behind her head she covered her face hoping that a few more moments of stillness may still be left and this was all a dream. She felt a hand grasp hers tightly and pull hard, she found herself sliding across the mattress heading for the edge of the bed and the hard wooden floor.
“WAIT! Thorandill, WAIT, do you want me to be black and blue with bruises on this day?”
Thorandill laughed, but let go of her hand just as she was precariously balanced on the edge of the mattress.
“Ok, ok I’m up, step aside for I may fall in my sleep.” Nar’Allia swung her legs over the edge of the mattress and groaned, then she stood up and purposely swayed form side to side with her eyes closed and her arms held out in front of her growling like a bear, she started to lurch towards the twins where they stood, then opening her eyes she ran for them, they scattered one either side of the bed and stood out of reach from her grasp, giggling.
“OK, off with you, I need to do something with this hair before I come downstairs for breakfast, all these ribbons are driving me crazy.”
Thorandill stood with both his arms crossed in front of him and said, “ok I’ll leave you girls to it then, father wants me to help move some furniture outside. Don’t be too long, I’ll be hungry after all that effort and do not want breakfast to be delayed.”
Both Nar’Allia and Solvienne stood in mock attention and saluted side by side. Thorandill grunted and waved them away smiling, he closed the door behind him.
Solvienne grasped one of Nar’Allia’s hands and pulling her across to the dressing table saying, “guess who’s been here already this morning with a bouquet of flowers for you?”
Nar’Allia smiled at Solvienne’s wistful expression and said, “uh-oh, now let me see not master Lo’Rosse already?”
Solvienne giggled and smiled broadly, she nodded enthusiastically, “yes he was here first light, he was asking for you, wanted to be the first to congratulate you on your day of days.” She smiled smugly.
“Well we had better get me looking my best then hadn’t we?” Nar’Allia was staring into the mirror frowning at the mess that was her hair. She sighed and almost to herself said, “this could be a long job.” Nar’Allia looked at Solvienne and pulled a funny, perplexed face. Solvienne giggled and started to untie the many ribbons that held the myriad of curls in place. As she did so she hummed a tune, occasionally apologising when she snagged a ribbon and pulled some hair.
About an hour later the two girls came downstairs. The table was already laid for breakfast; Thorandill was already sitting at the table an expectant look upon his face, “At last!” He raised both eyes upwards and rested his chin in his hand with his elbow on the table and groaned, in his other hand he toyed with a table knife.
Solvienne looked indignant and went to sit by his side and as she sat down she slapped him playfully across the shoulder. “Don’t be such a grumpy old bigmouth.”
Nar’Allia yawned and said, “be still both of you. You get me up in the middle of the night and then start playing up so.”
The twins chuckled just as two people stepped through the doorway from the kitchen. The first to enter, Minervar, put the tray of breakfast things down on the table and walked across to Nar’Allia wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist. She waited for Iolrreas to step by her side and they both hugged their eldest daughter.
Iolrreas whispered in Nar’Allia’s ear, “good morning Narny.”
Minervar said, “I hope you slept well and are ready for this day. Your hair looks lovely.”
“Yes, I did sleep well, but …..” Nar’Allia remembered something from the night before, she turned to look at the quiver hanging there on the wall, she frowned, for no arrows could now be seen within. The quiver appeared just as it always had, but she had seen the arrows, hadn’t she? The feathers that adorned the rim of the quiver, their vibrant colours had seemed so much brighter last night, the now quite dull black stones had seemed so much shinier.
“Narny?” It was Minervar looking at her questioningly after following her gaze to the quiver.
“Oh, nothing momma….. I thought, I saw, no couldn’t have, it must have been just …. just a dream,” she looked back to the quiver again. But then whispered almost to herself, “no not a dream.”
Minervar followed her gaze, once more looking with her own eyes upon the quiver, her heart gave a flutter. Then she looked back at Nar’Allia the questioning look upon her face remained, but she said nothing further.
The family sat down to breakfast, they discussed the day ahead, who they expected to come to the celebrations, which they agreed amounted to probably the whole village, for all were invited after all. Both Minervar and Iolrreas recounted memories of their own R’Golea’Foed celebrations and Solvienne mused about how much she looked forward to hers.
To which Thorandill said, “bah you just want to get dressed up in a pretty frock and have your hair in an elaborate style.” Solvienne stuck her tongue out at him.
Thorandill then said how at his R’Golea’Foed celebrations, he wanted mock sword fights, wrestling competitions and an archery tournaments. Swimming gala’s in the lake and how, after looking at his sister and turning his nose up, he didn’t necessarily want any girls to be there either.
“But Thorandill,” said Minervar, “you must remember that some girls are expert with both the sword and bow, someday you may be surprised to learn that the art of war is not the sole domain of males, at least not in T’Iea history.”
“Yes, what about the heroin in your story momma, the lady Serinae,” remarked Solvienne. “She was a great warrior, she knew how to fight.” Solvienne crossed her arms in front of her and gave Thorandill a challenging look.
Nar’Allia thought about that name again. Not in a long time had that name come up in conversation, now here it was again, like last night’s thoughts about the old quiver and long bow that used to belong to Serinae.
“Bah, she was a ranger, they can fight ok, but not like a paladin or a true warrior with armour and broad sword.” Thorandill slapped himself on the chest as if to demonstrate the protection afforded by plate armour.
Minervar smiled, “you obviously haven’t seen a ranger fight Thor, if you had you may change your mind.”
Nar’Allia thought once more about the quiver and her late night sojourn down to the parlour room. She was also reminded of the poem in the Nu’Er’Etalle, the one she was reading about the lady Paladin. She was about to point out the story to Thorandill and how along with Serinae there was indeed much proof as to the fighting skills of women.
But Thorandill scoffed
and remarked how there had not been a war for countless years, at least he couldn’t remember there being one. With a slightly frustrated look upon his face he related as to how the rangers of Ter’Resell were few and far between now, especially the real rangers. He agreed he had never seen such a warrior and pronounced it a shame that they were no longer needed. He went on to speak of how the world had changed and the heroes of old only existed now in stories and fireside tales.
Solvienne said he was a war monger and told him he was speaking like an Ognod.
“Well,” was his reply, “I don’t mean I want a war, I just, well, it’s best to be prepared, for who knows what may happen in the future.”
“Wisely said young man”. They all turned towards this new voice, there in the doorway was a young T’Iea man leaning on the door frame. He was dressed in fine leather breaches and jerkin, his long blond hair tied in a ponytail behind his head. “Perhaps your parents should send you to the ranger guilds in the fair city of Ter’Resell, I hear that they will make for an exciting life for you.”
“Lo’Rosse!” shouted Solvienne excitedly and leaping down from her chair ran over to the young man. She grasped his hand tightly as she pulled him in through the doorway.
Iolrreas stood and moved a spare chair to the table so that Lo’Rosse could sit down, “welcome my friend, please sit and eat with us.”
Lo’Rosse bowed firstly to Minervar and then to Iolrreas, “my gratitude to the hospitality of the house,” but as he sat he only had eyes for Nar’Allia who was blushing slightly with downturned eyes.
Solvienne innocently made matters worse by saying, “Lo’Rosse was around here earlier wasn’t he momma. He was asking after Nar’Allia, but she was still asleep in her bed.”
Minervar smiling in obvious amusement said, “that he was my child, he kindly dropped around some beautiful flowers. Oh! But I am so sorry Lo’Rosse, I would have had them in a vase by now if I had known you were returning, but forgive me they recline in the kitchen water basin at the moment, how very rude of me”.
“Not at all milady, I cannot think of a single reason why you, or any of your family would ever be rude, I’m sure it would be an impossibility.”
“Nar’Allia hasn’t seen them yet, but I’m sure she would think them beautiful,” spouted Solvienne as she looked towards where her older half-sister sat staring daggers at her.
“They would pale in the presence of the beauty of milady,” said Lo’Rosse as he raised a cup of water in salute towards Nar’Allia.
Solvienne cooed.
Nar’Allia, wanting to change the subject felt she had to say something, “we were just discussing and comparing my parents R’Golea’Foed celebrations Lo’Rosse. But it seems Thorandill would rather have a trial of manhood than a plain boring old party.”
Lo’Rosse held his cup in salute to Thorandill. “Well why not, I’m sure that young Thorandill here has a good idea, it sounds like great fun to me, the day is sunny, the sky is clear and as blue as Solvienne’s eyes, why not be outside having fun? Or perhaps my lady Nar’Allia thinks she would not fair very well on the field of an archery competition?”
Thorandill drew himself up with a wide grin on his face, obviously pleased he had found a supporter for his ideas.
Solvienne giggled into her hand and blushed bright red. Thorandill sat back in his chair and clasped both hands behind his head a broad smile remained upon his features he stared at Nar’Allia as if challenging her in some way. “But I happen to know that my older sister is a very good shot.”
Nar’Allia knew she was being led to make a decision, so smiling in resignation she said, “alright you conspirators, have it your way, an archery tournament there shall be, the winner shall be crowned ‘Archer Extraordinaire’.”
“I think the winner should be honoured with the first dance with the lady Nar’Allia,” said Thorandill with a mischievous look upon his face.
Nar’Allia shot her younger brother a mischievous look of her own as she said, “but I would be lonely dancing with myself.”
“Now there is a challenge if ever I heard one,” said Iolrreas, “perhaps you had better go practice Lo’Rosse.”
“But what if the winner is another girl?” remarked Solvienne in a slightly disappointed manner.
Nar’Allia saw a chance to get her own back so she replied, “sometimes waiting around for a man to ask one to dance is like waiting for a fish to jump out of the pond and into your net. Anyway when dancing with a man they normally manage to trample on your feet”. Nar’Allia smiled and winked at Solvienne. She felt pleased with her counter to their conspiracy.
“Ah, so women like to wait for men then to capture them in their nets I’m to believe,” said Lo’Rosse smiling from ear to ear.
Nar’Allia felt slightly flustered, she suddenly realised that her choice of words may not have been the best thought out ones and she was in danger of the whole thing back firing on her. “No, that’s not, not what I meant at all,” stammered Nar’Allia, she couldn’t stop herself blushing at the thought.
Everyone around the table laughed and started to tuck into the fine breakfast meal. The rest of the conversation was but small talk. When the meal was finished Lo’Rosse said his farewells, for his father was expecting him to help out with some chores, so after kissing Nar’Allia’s hand and bowing low to both Minervar and Iolrreas, he blew a kiss towards Solvienne who once again burst into a fit of giggles, he winked at Thorandill then took his leave. When he had gone Nar’Allia went with Minervar to clear the table and clean the dishes in the kitchen.
Once they were alone, Nar’Allia found the opportunity to ask Minervar some questions. She said almost absentmindedly, last night I heard someone calling my name; I awoke and thought it may be the twins playing a joke, but they were asleep. I went downstairs for a glass of water and noticed, well, there was a weak light shining. A very faint glow.”
“Where was this light?” asked Minervar questioningly.
“It was the old quiver, the one that used to belong to your friend Serinae, it had arrows glowing within it.”
Minervar’s eyes widened at what Nar’Allia had said, “arrows? What kind of arrows? What did they look like?”
“Well they were sort of, not really arrows. Well yes arrows, I could see them plain enough but when I went to grasp at them my fingers just passed through them as if they weren’t really there?”
Minervar seemed deep in thought for a while and then she said, “No. I couldn’t ever grasp them either.”
Nar’Allia looked questioningly at Minervar, she felt astonished at this response. For some reason it hadn’t occurred to Nar’Allia that Minervar would know anything about these strange arrows, yet she didn’t seem at all surprised that Nar’Allia or even herself for that matter could not grasp the arrows within the quiver. It was almost as if Minervar were expecting this to happen, perhaps then she had tried before. “Then you’ve seen these arrows before, tried yourself to take them from the quiver?”
Minervar wiped her hands dry and putting the tea towel on the rack she approached Nar’Allia. She grasped both her hands in hers and said, “yes, I have seen such before, but not for many, many years. The quiver Nar’Allia, it is a very special item, it demands a very special skill, not one that I have unfortunately,” she lowered her gaze as if thinking of some other thing. But she smiled and looked back at Nar’Allia, “it was not fashioned all those years ago to hold just any arrows you see. That is why it has remained empty, from the day I was given it to this. I do not think that you or I could place any normal arrows within it, at least not any arrows that anyone here in this village can craft, although I have not tried mind you. I have seen what kind of arrows it was meant to hold and did hold. The same as you saw last night,”
Nar’Allia thought about Minervar’s words for a little while then said as if seeking reassurance, “it definitely wasn’t a dream then, I did see the quiver full of arrows.”
“Yes, I’m sure you did. The quive
r was fashioned by Serinae under tutelage of her masters in the ranger’s guild. The gathering of the various components required, along with the eventual fashioning of the quiver was the final trial of her passing out as a ranger of the guilds. The knowledge of its making is a secret known only by the guild masters of those halls. Perhaps now none live that remain keepers of that knowledge. Perhaps such skill has passed into history, I do not know. Serinae’s quiver you see is one of never-ending replenishment; it is able to replicate any arrow placed within to infinity. The quiver is crafted in such a manner that it draws upon arcane powers that reach into the voids or maybe into Elit G’fedrel, the place of the spirits. Those black glossy stones around its edge are special; they are key stones, not from this world but sort after items that originate from within the voids. Mined by the Grûndén of old at the request of the Keepers.”
Minervar stared blankly into space as if recalling some long forgotten time.
Nar’Allia was stunned. But she saw that a tear had formed in the corner of Minervar’s eye and was running gently down her cheek. She raised her finger to Minervar’s face and caught the tear before it fell to the ground. Minervar started and focussed her eyes once more upon Nar’Allia’s face. The two women smiled at each other fondly.
Nar’Allia asked, “but how come there were arrows in it, you said it replicates any arrow that is placed within, but no arrow was in there to start with?”
“I can’t answer that Nar’Allia, I have not seen any arrows in that quiver for many ages past, and as I said I certainly have not tried placing any arrow within. I believe there to be only one person who could place such an arrow.”
“Serinae?” questioned Nar’Allia. “Has this got something to do with Serinae do you think? I thought I heard someone calling to me in the night just before I went downstairs and saw the glow of the arrows within the quiver. Is this some kind of sign? Perhaps even Serinae trying to contact us? Perhaps she was even here?”
“Perhaps Nar’Allia, perhaps.” Minervar thought for a while then as if making a sudden decision and hugging Nar’Allia she said, “it may be fun to have an archery tournament today after all. She walked into the parlour room, Nar’Allia followed and leaned on the door frame, Minervar now stood in front of the fireplace for a few minutes seemingly lost in some private thought, then she reached up, her fingers lingered by the quiver for a few moments, but she raised her hand further and took down Serinae’s black long bow from where it hung above. “Tell you what, instead of using your bow, why not try and use Serinae’s.” She looked closely at the black bow as if she was seeing it for the first time; she then offered the bow to Nar’Allia. Nar’Allia had seen this bow many times, but for some unexplained reason she found she was hesitant in grasping it. But then with a smile she took it and held it gently in her hand. She was surprised firstly, she was amazed at how much lighter it felt to the touch than she would have expected. Secondly, it seemed to have a gently vibrating inner warmth that seemed to flow into her fingers with what felt like an almost imperceptible tingling sensation.
She must have looked a little surprised, for Minervar said, “Nar’Allia?”
Nar’Allia marvelled at the bow in her hand before she raised her gaze back to Minervar. “But why? I have never used this bow, no one has used it to my knowledge, it has always just hung there above our fire place, even father’s bow does not hang there. It has always been just a kind of ornament to me, something that has always been there. All through my childhood and beyond it has hung there in our home taking pride of place even over my father’s bow. Why should I use it now and not him?”
Minervar smiled and shrugged, “you don’t have to my girl, not if you don’t want to. But I’m asking you. Do it for me Nar’Allia, do it as a favour for me.” Minervar winked at Nar’Allia then she said, “you are right, it has hung there in that place,” she sighed, “it has hung there for too long, far too long, for it seems to me to be such a waste, it was made to be used and I think I would like to see it in service once more. It has always seemed a tragedy to me that it should hang there useless when it was crafted with great knowledge and much skill by our ancestors of old who possessed a now long forgotten art. We dishonour them by forgetting their art, I’m sure they did not put all that knowledge and work into this thing so that we would dishonour them further by just having it look like a rather strange ornament.” She looked at Nar’Allia and putting her hand upon her shoulder said, “anyway I have a hunch you will like it.”
Then smiling, Minervar added, “look at you my girl, not even ready for your celebrations yet, come on we have no time to lose.” She took the tea towel from where it was draped across Nar’Allia’s shoulder and threw it onto the table and then after the black bow was returned to its place above the hearth she ushered the young woman upstairs, calling out to Solvienne as they went to go find her father and ask him to fetch the tin bathtub in from the store house.