The Raie'Chaelia (Legend of the Raie'Chaelia, Book One 1)

by Melissa Douthit

  Chalice blew onto the hot, steaming mug of cider. “But why would they think he was alive? It seems to me that Dar’Maalda would have killed him if he was the only one strong enough to be a threat.”

  Placing the iron stoker back onto its hook, Jeremiah retook his seat. “You’re right, but I don’t think he could. I think those close to the Royal Family had to swear a Terravailian oath of some kind. I don’t know the details about the oaths, but I’m fairly certain they protected them. However, Duquaine could have died from something else, though, like an accident or an illness or something. That’s always possible and given that it’s been nineteen years and he hasn’t been seen, it seems likely.”

  “What happened to Davinthore?”

  “He lost the battle, but was allowed to live on as Duque of Avielia. And that doesn’t make sense because usually no one in the Royal Family would live with that kind of humiliation. They are trained from birth to choose death over defeat. Many say that Davinthore isn’t very strong. I think that’s an understatement. Father said that he was surprised to learn that he was such a coward, too, given that Sir Darren perished along with his soldiers in the battle.”

  “Sir Darren?”

  “Sir Theodore Darren, the Terravailian Battle Lord of the Royal Legions. He was a great battle leader, but unfortunately the final commands were given by Davinthore, who foolishly overthrew many of Darren’s decisions. So, Sir Darren died on the battlefield because of Davinthore’s mistakes. That’s why we call it the Darrenfell Moor, because that’s where Darren fell. You see?”

  “Oh … yeah. The moor. That’s right.” She thought the name sounded familiar. She remembered how she had passed south of the moor on her way to Branbury. Suddenly, something else occurred to her. “Well, alright, if Davinthore is still alive and living in Avielia, then this passage here can’t be referring to him.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because, silly, you have to disappear first before you can be returned again. It says here: returns Shae’Ielian to Quaine. That translates to: returns the Rightful King to the gate. Whatever that means.”

  Jeremiah scratched his chin thoughtfully. “That’s right. Then it can’t be him.” He sighed. “I don’t know who it’s talking about then. I don’t know what returning to the gate means either.” He peered into his cup, rubbing his temple in dismay.

  A few moments passed, then Chalice asked: “You said something about the Royal Legions being divided during the battle. Why? What happened?”

  “I’m not sure. I think it had something to do with Duquaine, but that doesn’t seem right. From what I gather, he was generally revered by everyone. It seems more likely because of the incompetence of Davinthore.”

  “And Duquaine’s children were captured and imprisoned after the battle?”

  Jeremiah nodded and took another draw from his cup. “Yeah, before the battle, actually, and he couldn’t have had another child because the Queen died. So the verse in this book doesn’t make sense.”

  “How did she die?”

  “Good question. I don’t know the answer to that either. There’s quite a bit I don’t know. I have a lot to ask my father when we see him.” Suddenly, he slapped his forehead. “What am I saying? You have a lot to ask my father when we see him. I’m sure he’ll have the answers to all of this.”

  She smiled at him warmly. “You seem so sure that we’ll succeed in finding them. Sometimes I wish I had your optimism.”

  He shook his head. “Not seem. I am sure.”

  “Well, I believe you, then,” she responded. “You know, I’m wondering, how does your father know so much about the Royal Family? It’s a bit odd for a Naeoman living so far away from the capital.”

  “Like I said, he knows a lot about a lot. I don’t know how he gets his information, but I do know that it is correct. Rumors can twist original stories into fictional accounts, but my father always seems to have the facts about things.”

  “How do you know?”

  Jeremiah shrugged. “He just does,” he said as he got up from the chair and placed his mug on the table. “I’m going to pack our things for tomorrow. We have an early start and an uncertain journey ahead, so it’s probably a good idea to get some rest tonight.” He motioned back toward the study. “If you want to take a bath—”

  “I know where the washroom is,” she interrupted. “I’ll find my way.” Placing her mug next to his, she slowly rose from her chair and stretched. The thought of a warm bath after her hard journey appeased her. She could hear him rummaging around in the kitchen as she made her way toward the study. She assumed he was getting water for the tub.

  When she pushed open the door to the washroom, she found everything she needed. A wide, porcelain tub sat to the left of the door and two soft wash towels hung on a silver rack next to the mirror to her right behind a bench that supported a large porcelain wash bin. The opposite wall opened to a small passageway that led to a sort of indoor privy.

  Odd, she thought.

  She stepped in and shut the door behind her. A chill ran up her legs as her bare feet met the coolness of the marble floor. She unbuttoned her riding dress and peeled it off. Draping it over the clothes stand in the corner next to the towel rack, she turned and discovered the same type of spouts above the tub as above the metal wash bins that she had seen in the kitchen. She had a guess as to what they were, but decided to ask Jeremiah anyway.

  She suddenly realized how unclothed she felt standing there in her short, blue silk shift. Goose bumps decorated her arms as she shivered. It was colder at this end of the house. She glanced at herself in the mirror. Her dark, copper-colored birthmark caught her eye and she turned her right shoulder toward the mirror as she stroked her thumb across it. What is it? she wondered. What does this mark mean? Does it have a meaning? Telling herself not to think about it, she turned and opened the door to call for Jeremiah.

  “Jer—” As soon as she looked up, she found that he was right there in front of her. “Oh, there you are. I—” She cut off as his face turned a bright crimson color. There was a long, heavy pause.

  “I … I thought you would need help with the tub,” he said awkwardly and glanced around the washroom behind her. “Hold on. I’ll be right back.” He darted up the staircase and returned with a long, woolen robe. “Here, this is my mother’s. It should keep you warm.”

  “Thanks!” she said happily as she slipped it on. “Yeah, I was just about to call you for help. What are these things for?” She motioned toward the spouts above the tub.

  “The left is for hot water and the other is for cold.”

  “You mean this is how you fill the tub? I thought so.”

  “Yeah, here, I’ll show you.” He turned the handle of the left spout and she felt the water. It was hot to her touch. She pulled her hand back quickly and gaped. Then, she turned the other handle and a strong flow of cool water poured out into the tub.

  “You also need to place this in the drain,” he said as he grabbed a marble stopper and plugged the hole on the bottom.

  “That’s incredible. How does it work? Where does the water go when you’re done?”

  “I’m not sure about the details, but I know that my father built a system that can harness the force of the current from the river to make things work around the farm. My mother is the one who shaped the pipes that channel the river water to and from the house. Acqualin is what they call it. Before the water reaches the house, it is filtered and purified. After it drains out of the tub, it goes back into the river. It’s really ingenious. Someday my father will teach me.”

  “So, it’s cleaner water?” she asked and he nodded. “You know, I will have to refill my water skin.”

  “I’ll do it when I get back into the kitchen. I have a couple more things to finish in there.”

  “Thanks, Jeremiah.”

  “Don’t mention it. Here is the soap for washing and the soda water for your teeth.” He motioned toward the bench in front of the mirror. “I should hav
e everything packed for tomorrow by the time you’re done in the washroom. You can use my parents’ room tonight. It’s the first one on the left when you get to the top of the stairs.”

  “Okay, good night.”

  “Good night,” he said softly and shut the washroom door behind him.

  As soon as the tub was full and steaming hot, Chalice turned off the flows of both spouts, undressed, and eased herself into the relaxing warmth of the water. She could feel all her bodily soreness and tightness that the last few days had imposed upon her wash away with the heat.

  She wished she could stay in the house for more than just one night, but Jeremiah was right. They were probably in danger, and in any case, they needed to find the others. They had a perilous road ahead of them. She would need to pluck up her courage once again for the days ahead. She was beginning to tire of the road, but for the moment, all she wanted to do was put it out of her mind, relax, and think of home.

  When she was finished washing, she threw on her slip and robe, grabbed her riding dress, and found her way to the bedroom. The bed was soft and warm. She got in, curled up and before she knew it, found herself once again in front of the white marble stairwell.

  Flight into the Mountain

  “Chalice … Chalice …”

  Chalice opened her eyes and squinted, not recognizing the face in front of her. Jeremiah stood above her, nudging her shoulder. For just a moment, she had no idea where she was. Then, suddenly, the memory of the night before came rushing back to her. She nodded, brushed the sleep from her eyes, and sat up in bed.

  He smiled. “Hey sleepy, time to get up. I woke you a little early. We’ve got to get going soon.”

  Still drowsy, she glanced over toward the window. The day was just creeping in. Although, when she took a closer look, she noticed that it was still fairly dark outside. She realized then that the peak of Mt. Vaassa blocked much of the morning sun as it loomed over the Auramont Vale.

  She peered around the room. It was large, with a soft, warm décor and plush carpets. She felt a rush of gratitude when she saw her saddlebags and cloak lying on the flowered divan in the west corner.

  Jeremiah must have brought them up, she thought. She was happy that they had been reunited. What would I have done without him?

  She pulled herself reluctantly from the blankets. She was stalling. She wanted to stay wrapped in their warmth forever. Stretching, she made her way to the divan and groped in her bags for her other riding dress. She removed a darker blue, un-embroidered garment that she slipped on quickly. Then, she placed the dirty dress she had worn the day before into the bag.

  She looked down at the dark blue cotton on her body. She liked this one. It was simple and plain, but very comfortable and fit her curves to a perfection. She slipped on her boots and broach and began to do the buttons on the front of her dress as she walked to the window on the north side of the room. She was on the last button when her fingers stopped. In between two willow trees stood black sails. She moved closer to the window and glanced down toward the dock. At the end of the pier floated a huge brigantine. A flag was attached to a halyard on the mainmast. It was jet black and flashed a bright scarlet flame as it whipped in the wind.

  “Jeremiah!” As soon as she had called for him, he burst into the room, breathless.

  “Yeah, I know. I just saw it, too.” He rushed to the window next to her and opened it a crack to hear what was happening. Peering through the drooping branches of the trees, they saw two men lowering a wide plank onto the end of the pier from a tall hatch in the hull of the ship. Two others were securing the hawsers onto bollards. A large man dressed in a black cloak and mail strode casually down the plank onto the pier. The same sigil on the ship’s flag stood out brightly across his chest. He turned and glanced up toward the others who were leading horses carefully down the plank. Jeremiah and Chalice remained as silent as they could and listened. They could barely hear the faint words in the distance.

  “Remember Ivan, no mistakes this time. The Fierain wants him alive,” the man in black shouted to the men. Him? Who are they looking for? Chalice wondered quietly as she glanced at Jeremiah. Just then, a red falcon flew from the main mast and came to settle upon the man’s outstretched arm.

  “Hey! I know that bird. It tried to attack me yesterday when I was walking to the house,” Chalice said angrily. Apart from its color, there was something unusual about the falcon, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

  “We’ve got to get out of here, Chalice,” Jeremiah said as he bolted for the divan to collect her bags.

  “I can fight!” she said defiantly. She wasn’t about to run like a coward.

  He shook his head. “Not these guys. They are deadly and there are too many of them. Let’s go. Follow me.” He tossed her cloak to her and she threw it on as they rushed out of the bedroom.

  She stayed close behind him, flying down the stairs, through the hallway, and out into the sitting room. Jeremiah stopped abruptly right before the homemade rug that she had seen the day before. She wasn’t expecting this and crashed right into him at full speed. It was much like smashing into a brick wall.

  “Here.” He handed her the saddlebags and picked up his own that were lying on the table. Then, he threw a large, thick rucksack over his shoulder and grabbed a lantern. “Step back,” he commanded as he lifted up one end of the rug and folded the corner over. Underneath was a trap door with a latch carved into the wood. He clicked the latch and threw open the door, laying it back onto the rug. A series of steps descended downward steeply into the darkness.

  “You go first, Chalice. Watch your step,” he said as he reached into his bags for his flint and steel to light the lantern. She descended in careful haste, holding onto the rail attached to the wall. She had to grope with her feet along the stairway, but she finally found the bottom. The place had an old, musty smell and she wondered if it was some sort of basement. Jeremiah handed her the lantern. Light flooded the wooden staircase and gave shape to the underground room. To her right, she could see a long corridor that stretched into the darkness. She looked up to see if he was following and saw that he was struggling to get through the narrow door.

  “Throw me the bags, Jeremiah,” she said and he tossed hers down to her. She caught them and laid them to the side. He carried his own as he descended. Concerned about him falling, she positioned herself at the bottom of the steps. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he fell. He was much bigger than she was.

  Please don’t fall, Jeremiah, she thought. She watched as he pulled the door, along with the rug flap back into position and descended the first few steps. Then, she stopped worrying. He appeared very sure-footed and careful, as if he had done this many times before.

  “What is this passage? Where does it go?” she asked.

  Jeremiah stepped down onto the ground and collected his bags. “You’ll see,” he said. “Father built it in case we ever had unwelcome visitors along the river. Follow me,” he said and took off at a full run into the darkness. “We’ve had to use this corridor in the past. It comes in very handy.”

  “You’ll have to tell me about that someday,” she panted as she scurried to keep up with him. The hallway wound around in dizzying directions. They passed a couple of staircases until finally careening around the last corner and arriving at the end. Finding themselves at the bottom of the last staircase, they ascended quickly. Jeremiah unhooked the latch of the small door at the top of the stairs and pushed it open. He set his bags to the left outside of the door and crawled out.

  When Chalice arrived at the opening, out of breath, she saw immediately where they were. It was the stable where she had been the evening before. The low-lying cupboard, which she had thought was so strange, was actually a doorway to the underground path. She handed him the lantern and her bags and scrambled out.

  They gathered the provisions they needed from the tack room, and in just a few short moments, had the horses bridled and saddled. Chalice glanced
over and noticed Jeremiah’s leather belt that held a small pouch and sheath for his carving knife. She also noticed his yew bow and leather quiver strapped to his back. She knew he was an excellent archer and that he crafted his own tools. He had shown her how to make a bow and arrow when they were young.

  That must be what he uses to hunt, she thought.

  Excited to leave, Sunny let out a low grumble. Chalice turned quickly and laid a hand on his muzzle to silence him. She looked over and saw that he had polished off all the food and water she’d given him the night before. Stroking his neck, she said in a quiet voice: “Good boy. That should hold you until tonight.”

  “Chalice,” Jeremiah whispered. “Quickly, this way.” Standing next to Banner, he motioned toward the door in the back of the tack room. Jeremiah’s horse, a beautiful, dark brown Thoroughbred, was taller and stronger than Sunny, but not quite as nimble. Jeremiah had told her during dinner the night before that the Maehbecks raised Thoroughbred horses. They were racing horses and were very valuable. She wondered for a moment about the other horses that would have filled the stalls.

  As quietly as they could, they led the horses through the door and out onto a small, narrow trail behind the stable. “This path will lead us into the mountain. The southern section leads to the Carion road. It meanders a bit, though. It was originally a game trail. I blazed it during my hunting trips.”

  “What’s the Carion road?” she asked as they mounted.

  “It’s the main route that leads to Branbury through the mountain. You probably used it on your way here.”

  “Oh yeah. Well, I don’t know much about this area. It’s my first visit,” she said. So much for staying off the main roads, she told herself. She thought about her encounter with the Chinuk the day before. No wonder that little creature could find me so easily. “Has it always been called the Carion road? I didn’t see the name on my map, but then again, it’s an old map. It marked the trail as unknown.”