Elessara looked at Nadel, then back at Rayhan. “Ready for what?”
“Captain Mendeley intends to take a tour of Whitewood’s inner city today.”
The captain stood, his soft expression replaced by a serious countenance.
Elessara was on her feet in seconds. “Alone?”
“Nadel will accompany me, and the king has posted soldiers within the city as a security measure.”
“What madness have you succumbed to?” She stood, her expression torn between humor and horror.
Rayhan wrapped a leather strap over his shoulder. It crossed over his chest to clip into his belt. Elessara’s eye followed him to the bedside table where his longsword leaned. He grabbed the heavy sword with one hand and slid it into the scabbard on his back. “You doubt my ability to defend myself, Lady Elessara?”
“I doubt anyone’s ability should their opposition gravely outnumber them.”
The edge in her quick retort caused the captain to pause. He stared at his gauntlets for several moments. “If you are so concerned, perhaps you should join me.” He pulled a coin purse from the table drawer and attached it to his belt before nodding to Nadel.
Elessara stepped in front of the captain, blocking his path. Rayhan dealt her an incredulous stare as the she-elf stubbornly planted her hands on her hips. “If you insist upon this outing, then yes. I am most certainly going with you. I have many friends in Whitewood. Far more than Nadel over here can vouch for. If you want to build a credible reputation, you will need the support of someone like myself; someone with influence.”
Rayhan looked to his guard who, after a bout of reluctance, agreed.
“Meet me at the Merry Willow Inn within an hour,” Elessara decided for them. “We will go from there.” She left and Nadel grumbled something inaudible under his breath.
“Is she always this assertive?” Rayhan asked.
“She’s General Redwood’s daughter,” the elf motioned Rayhan out the door. “What do you think?”
* * * * *
Rayhan sat beside Nadel in a quaint establishment known as the Merry Willow Inn. They had waited for nearly an hour with no sign of Elessara's arrival. Rayhan sipped at a warm cup of tea, his back resting comfortably against a padded chair.
Nadel lacked such patience. He fidgeted from across the table, a series of exasperated sighs forcing Rayhan to stifle his amusement. “You will spend centuries waiting upon women,” the rahee remarked. “You may as well grow accustomed to it.”
Nadel rested his wrist upon the pommel of his sword. “How many women wait for you back home, rahee?”
Rayhan blew his wavy forelock out of his eyes. “None at the moment.”
Nadel raised a curious brow. “Not even a lady of the night?”
The rahee shook his head as he wrapped his hands around his warm mug. “I am not the type to spread myself so casually among women.”
“I am beginning to find your impenetrable code rather boring, Captain.”
Rayhan chuckled. At least he had finally managed to engage Nadel in civil conversation. The rahee tapped his mug with the tips of his fingers as his guard studied him, deep in thought.
“You do favor women, yes?” the elf finally asked.
Rayhan’s fingers froze as he stared at Nadel. “You are serious?”
“Of course. It is a reasonable question, Captain.”
Rayhan's ear twitched to the side as the sound of light footsteps entered the inn’s open door. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as his eyes took in a familiar face. “Lady Elessara,” he greeted her with more enthusiasm than he had intended. “Thank you for joining us!”
“Captain Mendeley,” Elessara responded, drawing the attention of the entire establishment to the rahee’s table.
The noble elf didn't walk. She stalked. Rayhan’s fingers stroked his chin as Elessara slid into the chair by his side and nodded politely to Nadel.
“You’re displeased,” the captain said under his breath. The historian didn’t turn or acknowledge his words, but Rayhan knew she had heard them. A barmaid approached from his right and handed him another cup of tea for which he thanked her. The lass ignored him. Instead, she served Nadel a shaking glass and nervously accepted Elessara’s order before scurrying back to the kitchen. Rayhan was careful not to let his expression change as he continued his subtle exchange with the historian, his lips hardly moving. “You consider me a fool for coming out here.”
“Do you plan to prove me wrong?” she whispered back.
“You two do realize there is a third person sitting at this table?” Nadel’s tone bled with annoyance.
A smile twitched at the corner of the captain’s lips. “That is precisely my intent, my lady.”
Elessara forced a smile as the barmaid returned. “I fear all you will find here is disappointment, Captain.”
“I can hear everything you are saying,” Nadel interjected.
“We will see,” Rayhan replied without skipping a beat.
Nadel rolled his eyes, his shoulders cascading into a slouch. “Fine, the both of you carry on like I’m not here, but when those glares from across the room evolve into daggers, I will remember this moment.”
Both Rayhan and Elessara lifted their heads, their attention directed to the opposite end of the inn. Four elves sat across from one another at a short table set parallel to the wall. All of them had their eyes on the rahee, their expressions unwelcoming.
Rayhan lifted his glass and nodded to the party before he turned his attention to Nadel. “Do they pose a threat?”
Nadel jerked his head toward the uniformed guard stationed beside the door. “Not with the king’s men posted at every turn. His Majesty prepared for your excursion by having soldiers stationed along the roads of Whitewood. Every shop and tavern you enter will be followed by red uniforms.”
“Well that hampers the friendly approach I was aiming for,” he confessed.
“It is better than the martyr approach,” Elessara pitched.
Rayhan nodded, unable to argue that point. Minutes later the barmaid returned to the table and dropped a stale piece of bread on the plate before the captain, then set a fresh basket in front of Nadel and Elessara. Her face was a mixture of fear and bitter bravery as she crossed her arms before Rayhan. “The master of the inn requests that you leave his establishment. Your presence unsettles his customers,” her voice wavered slightly, but she held her chin aloft. “Your friends may stay if they wish.”
The captain looked at the food barely fit for dogs, the message clear. His jaw clenched and he slowly lifted his gaze to meet the young elf’s stare. Her hands began to tremble more, her fear giving way as the captain rose to his feet.
He set his napkin over the bread. “My lady, you are far too pretty for such ugly gestures. I hope you save your bravery for a more noble cause. You may keep your scraps and tell the master of this inn I meant no ill will.” He pulled a few silver coins from the purse on his hip and dropped them on the table. “Farewell.”
The barmaid scooped up the captain's coins as he walked away, and the entire room stood and applauded the rahee’s departure. It was one of the most humiliating experiences of Rayhan's young life, but he refused to let it show.
Elessara followed in the rahee’s footsteps with Nadel close behind her. Their first visit ended precisely as she had expected, but she hadn’t anticipated the rahee’s level of composure. She caught up to the captain and grabbed his forearm. Rayhan tensed, but only for a moment, his awareness overriding his instincts.
Elessara’s fingers loosened their grip when she caught his expression and her shoulders sagged in sympathy. Rayhan’s ears had drifted back, his silence his greatest shield, but it didn’t hide the truth in his brown eyes.
At home, the captain was revered for his chivalry and prowess. He was an honorable warrior and yet that meant nothing in Whitewood. Here, he was on trial for the sins of war. Even the ones that didn’t belong to him.
“I’m sorry,” she whisp
ered.
Rayhan looked at the shops that lined the street. “Show me Whitewood’s wares, Lady Elessara,” he replied. “It has been a long time since I have seen elven crafts.”
The historian complied, taking him from vendor to vendor where she introduced the captain to several artisans, most of whom she knew by name. With each encounter, Rayhan was faced with opposition, their demeanor rude and uninviting, yet his smile never faded when he spoke with her people, nor did his questions slow in regards to their trade.
“No wonder King Donovan sent him,” Rayhan overhead Elessara whisper to Nadel. “He does not falter under anything.”
“It is terribly obnoxious,” Nadel’s voice was flat until Elessara’s elbow knocked the pride from his gut.
“You could make a better effort.”
The guard straightened the folds in his red uniform. “So could you.”
“What do you mean?”
Nadel spoke from the corner of his mouth, his attentive gaze never leaving the captain in his charge. “Whitewood is watching General Redwood’s daughter walk alongside Siren’s son. Don’t you think they would feel more compelled to show the rahee kindness if they saw it from you first?”
Rayhan reminded himself to thank Nadel later as he struggled through yet another dead-end conversation. The historian stepped up beside him, her hand lightly touching his bicep as she joined the conversation. “Find anything you fancy, Captain?”
Rayhan smiled. “Unfortunately, Lady Elessara, my shoulders are a little too broad for an elven fit. However,” he pointed to a thick green cloak with the head of a unicorn stallion embroidered into it, “I was admiring this piece.”
She looked at the cloak hanging within the artisan’s stall, its design familiar. She glanced at the captain’s bracers, her hunch correct. “It’s the same design you’re wearing now.”
He winked before returning his attention to the elf in front of him. “Did you create this design?”
“My wife did,” the black-haired elf replied, his dark blue eyes drifting back and forth between Rayhan and Elessara.
“May I speak with her, sirrah?”
The artisan started to refuse, but Elessara insisted. “Please, Pelain.”
Something about Elessara’s request swayed him to comply. Rayhan thought it curious for a historian to have so much influence, but he chose not question it.
“Can I help you?” They heard her before they saw her. When the elf made it to the counter, her pale skin grew white as a cloud at the sight of her new patron.
Rayhan donned his best smile once again. “You created these lovely garments?”
The she-elf swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, the braids in her ginger hair swaying in emphasis. “Yes.”
“Are the designs all your own?”
“Every one.”
He slid the bracer from his arm and handed it to her. “Then perhaps you would recognize this?”
She did. Nadel, Elessara, and Rayhan knew it the moment the artist looked upon the leather article. She reached out and took the piece in hand, her fingers tracing over the delicate lines of the jewel encrusted design. “Where did you get these?”
Rayhan folded his hands behind his waist as he often did when addressing women. “They were a gift, my lady, from King Donovan.”
“I remember these,” she walked out from behind the counter space, her eyes never leaving the bracer in her hand.
“Vera,” her husband frowned, but she ignored him.
“I remember when King Donovan commissioned me,” she approached the captain with misty eyes. “He said it was for a young soldier he admired like a son.”
“You knew who the piece was for?” Elessara asked, surprised.
“It was only a few months before the war began,” Vera explained. She stood before the captain, a mixture of emotions rolling through her. “Nevaharday’s king visited this very stall. He never told me your name or that you were Siren’s boy. But he was kind, and his words were warm as he described you in great detail. I made this based on his description of you. It has been my most popular design ever since.”
She handed the bracer back to the rahee, unsure of how to react.
Rayhan slid it back onto his forearm and tightened it again. “His Majesty has been a father to me in ways my own never was. I am who I am because of the compassion of my king.”
“Well…” Vera breathed. “That is a comfort to me.”
Rayhan nodded, his gratitude as evident as the tunic on his chest.
“Confirm one thing, please… for an old elf’s sake.”
“Anything you wish,” the captain encouraged.
“Tell me you do not agree with the ways of your father,” she stated. “That his dark spirit was an anomaly in the Mendeley line.”
Rayhan’s hands slid from their clasp behind his waist, his lips parted as he struggled to find his words. His ears drifted low against the wavy strands of his hair and he reached out to clasp Vera’s hand. “I never agreed with my father,” he stated firmly. “Not in war nor outside of it.”
She smiled through her tears, comforted that the muse behind her most famous work had been exactly how the king described him. The elf sniffed and patted his cheek. “There’s a good lad.” Then she returned to her work, their conversation at an end.
Pelain watched his wife walk by, a smile on her tear-stained lips. He looked at the captain one more time, his anger slightly dissipated. Rayhan nodded politely to the man before taking his leave.
The rest of the afternoon played out with sneers and curt remarks, yet that moment with Vera never left Rayhan's mind. One was a small and lonely number; a grain in a sea of sand. Yet that single moment had moved him deeply.
As twilight forced the three to retire at another inn several miles outside of the city, the captain tried to think positively. Even if only one elf changed their mind tonight, it was still one less enemy.
* * * * *
The uniformed soldiers Rayhan had come to spot so easily were nowhere to be found inside the inn. The notion unnerved Nadel who scanned the semi-full establishment warily. He motioned to a table in the corner, his hand resting close to his hilt. “Sit,” he ordered. “The both of you.”
Rayhan settled into a chair against the corner of the wall where he had a full scope of the room. He watched Nadel stride over to the bar and signal the elf behind the counter. At first, he thought it was an interrogation, but when two goblets and a tall bottle of wine arrived at their table a minute later, he realized it was an order.
“A treat from Nadel,” their server explained. “He said to advise the rahee to drink it slowly.”
Rayhan laughed as the woman poured them both a glass. He nodded to Nadel who lingered with his back against the bar to observe the room’s activity. He knew what the clever guard was doing, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“Nadel certainly knows how to draw attention,” Elessara remarked, revealing to the captain that she recognized the elf’s ploy as well.
“I cannot decide if he is trying to help or get me killed,” the rahee confessed.
Elessara laughed. “He is helping. Believe it or not, Nadel has some respect for you.”
Rayhan’s eyes doubled in size. “You’re teasing… you must be.”
A smile crossed Elessara’s lips and she shook her head. “It takes time, but you will come to understand his subtleties.”
“You seem to know him well,” the captain observed.
Elessara shrugged. “Our fathers are close friends. They joined the military together when they came of age. They were there for each other’s weddings and the birth of their firstborn. You could say Nadel and I were raised beside one another.”
Rayhan raised a brow. “Do you fancy each other?”
The historian rolled her eyes. “No. Far from it. Why do you ask?”
The captain shrugged, his words spoken over the drink poised at his lips. “Only curious.”
“You realize you are
betrothed to me?”
Rayhan’s goblet barely made it to the table as he coughed on his wine. “Well, that is one way to unveil the elephant in the room.”
The she-elf gave an innocent shrug. “I did not want you to get your hopes up. That is all.”
“Get my hopes up?” It was rare to see the captain ruffled, though it seemed Elessara had managed it. “I favor women,” he insisted. “I do not see why my lack of one back home has everyone thinking otherwise.”
“Have you been asked that question before?”
“Aye,” he sighed. “Earlier today by Nadel.”
An inexplicable smile appeared on Elessara's face once more. “I see...” She looked at Nadel as she slowly swirled the wine inside her glass. “Have you ever been in love, Captain?”
Rayhan shook his head. “I never had the opportunity.”
“Never?”
The captain perched his boot on his knee as he took another sip of wine. “Courting women wasn’t a leisure I had until recently.”
“You are your king's nephew. Certainly, you had to attend events outside of training and war to mingle with your city's nobility.” Even as she said the words, Rayhan’s expression had already convinced her they were wrong.
“My father’s temper stemmed from his memories of past wars,” he stated quietly. “When something triggered those memories, he saw enemies in everyone, even in his family. I made it a point to stay close to home whenever I could to protect my mother and brothers. So yes, there were opportunities at dinners and dances and other festivals of the court. But I kept a polite distance. It would not have been fair to pull a lady into my family's disgrace.”
Elessara bit her lip as she digested Rayhan’s story. “Where are your brothers now… if I may ask?”
Brightness filled the rahee’s eyes at the mention of his siblings. “Shaynin, the eldest, joined the gypsies when I was eight. I do not see him often anymore, but the life suits him. He has a quick mind and was always full of mischief when we were younger.”
“I thought the gypsies were outlaws in Nevaharday.”
Rayhan teetered his palm in an uncommitted gesture. “The relationship between Nevahardans and gypsies is a complicated one. They are permitted within Nevaharday, but they know to tread lightly. Should one be arrested, he or she is tried as an outlaw.”
The Rogue Trilogy Page 56