Before she could tell him about the fall of the hold, a cry went up in the western tower. They were shouting something about a wounded rider. Lady Caerlyn and Ralavin nodded to each other and ran off in that direction, with a scared but determined Griff right behind them. They ran down the hill and over the short fence that led to a rocky slope above the west gate. They saw a horse with a limp body behind a woman covered in blood ride in, but they couldn't get down there fast enough. The small rocks impeded them.
Western gate, City of Everknight
She had rode full out for Gods above knows how long, and all sense of time had escaped her. Janna was almost at her limit, and that was saying something. Her wounds had closed, some with the broken arrow still in them, but her constant use of magic to keep both the horse and Dren alive was wearing her down. I feel like a street beggar at the end of a busy day of rolling in filth. She thought as she neared the gate. She wasn't sure the guards would move, but she wasn't stopping. It probably helped that Dren could be seen over the saddle, poor guy. She tried to wave at them, but it was tough to keep her arm up. All she could do was try to yell. "Wounded man!" She saw the gate go up as they echoed her statement to the guards behind them. Too bad she wasn't going to stop there either.
"Ralavin, it will take us forever to get down there without breaking our necks." Caerlyn knew that the two people needed them, but couldn't see a way down quick enough.
Ralavin cursed under his breath. He hated that he couldn't see any way around this, until he saw Griff fly by them. "What? Griff!" He called after the boy as the kid went down the hill of small rocks on a broken door. He was kneeling on the board and holding on to the doorknob for dear life.
Griff knew that those people needed help and when the Lady and Ralavin seemed lost for ideas, he just went on what he knew. In the winters, he and the other kids used to find broken pieces of buildings an slide down the hills of snow. As he looked around he saw a broken door by the stables. He smiled and grabbed it, running as fast as he could and jumping on it as he went down the hill.
Now he was holding on for his life, regretting this decision with a fervor that is only found by the most decadent of religious fanatics. He was going to wipe out and get dashed upon the rocks, he just knew it. Then the rider saw him and she pulled the reins and galloped in his direction.
Janna came roaring into Everknight and saw movement out of the corner of her eye. It looked like a boy, with red hair and apparently no sense of self preservation. He was careening down a slope of rocks on some sort of board, and if those white robes were what she thought, then he was being steered by the Gods themselves. He looked like a healer! She pulled the reins hard and took the tired horse right to the young daredevil, and that's when she saw the other two at the top of the hill. She shouldn't, but she never listened to anyone, even herself. "Ash'anti sonn cra'del lae kithens dwoen." She called to the stones to help them down, then proceeded to pass out.
Griff slid into the road and bailed from the door, rolling over and over ungracefully. He finally got to his feet as the girl, no, woman, slumped over in the saddle as she said something in a language he didn't understand. He rushed to her side and grabbed the reins to stop the horse, which looked like it was going to fall over any minute. She was a bloody mess, but he saw that the man over the saddle was worse. He tugged the man off, falling in a heap in the road, and rolled him over, looking at his wounds. Arrows protruded from his back and they looked deep. He cleared his mind and took a deep breath focusing inward once more. Davalar, God of Life and Honor, bless me with your wisdom and power to heal these wounds so that I may serve you. He felt his hands grow warm, and he touched the man's back. A powerful glow surrounded both him and the man as the arrows suddenly burst into ash and the wounds closed up in seconds.
Griff felt in his soul that the man's wounds were healed, but he couldn't feel the man getting better. Something was wrong. "Come back to us and let thyself be healed!" Griff pleaded with the man, or more importantly the soul of the man, and he felt an invisible impact to the air around him, then the man drew a deep breath.
Caerlyn saw the stones start to rise and gather at the woman's shout, and they quickly formed a stairway down. Ralavin didn't hesitate, and Caerlyn was right behind him. She saw Griff pull the man down and cringed, knowing that if he had wounds they would open even more. Then she saw the glow. "By Davalar, who is this child!?" She called out to Ralavin as they took the stone stairway down as fast as they could.
Ralavin saw the glow too, and his smile was one of love and pride in this boy. He was a true caller that was for sure. Then he saw the boys confused look and a chill swept up the priests spine. "No, he can't.......he doesn't even know how yet."
"Is he doing what I think he is doing?" Caerlyn asked as she heard the boy plead. This wasn't happening. He was trying to prevent the soul from leaving the man, but if done without training, well anything could happen. She had even seen someone else come back in the wrong body. That was a very bad day. The two healers skidded to a halt by the man as he sat up drawing breath, coughing and looking around with panicked eyes.
Dren was in a steady world of pain and bouncing. It was almost rhythmic, the bouncing, and it helped him concentrate on the pain of his wounds. Poor Stard, Gods above am I going to miss that man. He thought to himself. Then suddenly the pain was receding, and the bouncing was less and less.
There was a brightness to everything, and he thought that they might actually be home. Finally, Everknight. Now I can get a hearty drink or three and drown my sorrows in style. His reflections were interrupted, however, by the absolute silence of his surroundings. He looked up and he was standing upon the battlements of the castle....with Stard! "This can't be good huh?" He asked his dead friend. He had no illusions of his friends demise, he knew that the man would die to protect the mission, so that meant...
"I'm afraid not old friend." The man said, but then he turned as if listening to something. "Well, never mind. It looks like someone has other plans for you."
"What?" Dren started to ask, but the man was already gone. Vanished in a blink. Then he heard a voice over a great distance. It was saying something about punishing him, and ripping his very soul. Startled by this horrible threat, Dren looked around for an exit, or stairwell, but there was nothing, just a wall and a sixty foot drop. I thought I'd done good in my life, but if this is what I think, then I'm in more trouble than I thought. He spun as the voice grew louder.
Come to us man....we will rip your bones for fun and sip your marrow......pleasure is pain and we are but tools of the Master!
"Well sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not going anywhere without a fight." He looked around again, but this time he wasn't looking for an exit...He needed a weapon. Then another voice came though to him, sounding as if it were on the other side of the wall of the battlements.
"Come back to us and let thyself be healed!"
Dren stopped and looked out over the wall and saw a small figure on the ground. It looked like a white ant, but as if he could pull in the view, it grew bigger and bigger until he saw himself on the ground next to a young boy with red hair. He spun around as a flapping echoed from behind him. Figures came from the very stone he was standing on, passing up and through it as if it were clouds.
They were large and horrible, with leathery wings and rotting hair on dark dead flesh. Fangs dripped some sort of liquid, and a throaty growl was almost constant. There were almost twenty of them already and he could hear more of them in the distance. Right then, the fall would be one-hundred times better than fighting these things, and at least I get to feel like I'm flying for a couple of seconds. He leaped before his brain could argue, and he only had to scream a little before he sat up coughing and looked around with panicked eyes. Then he focused on the kid and hugged him. "Oh you little miracle worker. I think you're my new favorite person!" Then his eyes fluttered and he lost consciousness.
Inner Courtyard, Castle Everknight
Karsis watche
d the two of them rush off to help someone and knew that he was not needed for this one. Those two could probably put back together a dragon if it were in pieces. He got up and wandered towards the castle and saw someone walk out. It was a very small child, a girl if he wasn't mistaken, but it was no Page. "And who might you be little one?" Karsis hadn't seen her on his last visit, or if he had, he had been drinking.
Sprout was daydreaming when she heard the sweet voice say something. The voice was calming an happy and it caught her off guard here at the stuffy castle. She had been having no fun of late, what with the big people worried about the almost big people.
She looked up and her smile grew wide indeed! "Oh I'm Sprout. Who are you?!" She called out, immediately interested in this flamboyant man.
Karsis laughed at her childish demeanor. This is why he loved walking the land. He loved meeting people like this, the ones that breathed new life into.......well, life. "I am a traveling bard called Karsis. Are you someone's little? Does the King have a secret he hasn't told me?" Karsis was just teasing, he knew how loyal Arian was, and he would know if this was the offspring of those two.
"No silly, I has no parents. I grew up on the street, but the King found us and brought us here to help him. We're the King's Messengers." She looked sad for a moment, but then smiled once more and bounced over closer to him. "I mean, I'm not one yet, but I will be someday."
He frowned at her words, as if they could change his mood that quickly. Mainly because they did. He hated that children were abandoned to the streets, stealing or worse to make it through the winters alive. He had thrown down more slavery rings in the outlying cities than he could count....and he could count pretty damn high. "Well, I for one am glad to have met one so pretty." He looked up as others were approaching, sensing a tension even from this far away. It looked like a ragtag bunch of children, but they were already fanning out to attempt to flank him. He let them think they were doing good. "Ah company. You must be the King's Messengers." It was a statement, not a question.
Lan saw the dandy and signaled to the others to move out around the man. When the man named them, he knew that Sprout had been talking again. "State your name and business in Castle Everknight." He called out, taking a stance to draw the man's attention.
"Oh HO! Look at you all. Well I will grant you a courtesy since the King is a dear friend of mine. I am Karsis the bard. You might have heard of me?" He bowed mockingly as he kept his eyes on the pretty girl on his right, and the big boy coming on his left. "However, the courtesy vanishes if one of you even tries what you are thinking." It wasn't a threat, but it had been a long tenday or two.
Lan stopped at the mention of the name. He knew that name. Gods above everyone knew that name. "I'm sorry sire, I...I didn't realize." He stammered an apology, but then a strong hand was on his shoulder.
"Stand down students, this man means you no harm." Carana was trying not to laugh. These kids were so hells bent on throwing their lives at every bad guy they imagined was coming for the King that some day they were going to find one. Then it would be too late. That's why she was trying to teach them everything she knew, in such a short amount of time. Some would live, others wouldn't. It was the way of things.
Karsis bowed again at the sight of the High General, and then tousled Sprouts hair as she skipped away towards the others. "Stay out of trouble kids!" He looked at Carana and saw her smile as they left. "Having fun training the new kids I take it?"
"You have no idea." She beckoned him towards the castle as she turned and kept talking, "They are going to have a council meeting in the morning, so that the kids can catch up the King and their parents first. Care to have a little fun tonight in town?"
"My dear Carana, I will never turn down a woman that wants to have a little fun." He caught up with her and linked his arm with hers, and walked into the castle. He never saw the figure watching him from the far side of the courtyard.
When they were gone, the man dressed in all black walked briskly back inside himself to do some more research. If I can find what I need, I will have that pretentious bard once and for all. He thought, as he walked the halls seemingly invisible. No one saw him unless he wanted them to. He got to his rooms, walked in and locked the door. Time to get to work.
King's Chamber's, Castle Everknight
He could hear his parents pacing outside of the rooms, and it worried him more than a little. King Arian had wanted to speak with him alone, and it took everything that he had learned about control to keep from hiding under the bed. Maressa had taken Liss away, damn near kicking and screaming, and now they were alone. Rhoe's father had protested, but even Tierra had seen that the King and Rhoe needed to chat. They had all heard about the two kids becoming married, and they needed the facts before the servants spread it to all the other nobles in court.
"So young man, do me a favor first before we speak overmuch. Here take this." Arian tossed the young man a small bundle of clothes. Simple white tunic and breeches so he could change. "We will wash that robe of yours, or get you another in a little while." The boy wasn't much to look at, except that hair. It hung down to the boys lower back and was bone white. Then he saw the boy take off the robe hesitantly and almost gasped in shock. The robe hid more than anyone would know. The boy was solid, but wiry, with a well muscled frame and he looked like he had spent a good many years training. Not at all what the King had thought when he first saw him. I suppose a lot of people underestimate this young man, in that, he reminds me of his mother. Arian thought, looking at him.
Rhoe stripped and got dressed in the clothes that the King provided. He hadn't worn anything like this in a very long time, and he felt weird. He finished and looked up as the king turned and poured two glasses of something. "No thank you my lord, I'll have water if it doesn't bother you."
Arian laughed and turned with two glasses of water. "Don't believe the stories Rhovan, nobles don't just drink alcohol all the time." He handed Rhoe the drink and sat in a big comfy chair. "As you know I may be a little concerned about the whole 'Married to my daughter' thing. Especially since this is the first time we've met."
"You wouldn't have had any cause to meet me sir, I'm just a simple monk from the north." Rhoe said it before he thought about it. He knew he shouldn't interrupt a King, but he forgot where he was. Then he realized that the big man was laughing.
"Oh Rhovan, you remind me so much of your mother. She never let me prattle on either."
"Rhoe." The young monk interjected.
"Ah, sorry. Rhoe it is." He cleared his throat then continued. "Now what can you tell me about your relationship with Allissana?"
Rhoe took a deep breath and let it out slowly. How am I going to handle this? He thought, then he just closed his eyes and started talking. "Well sir, when we met I had no idea who she was. Once we were both conscious again. I knew her as Liss, and it wasn't till much later that she told me who she was." He stopped there to gauge the reaction from the stern man, and wasn't left waiting.
"So you had no idea who she was? The Princess of your own kingdom?" Arian was trying to treat this young man fairly, but his anger was simmering through a little.
"Well no sir, I don't think I would've recognized you either if you were not dressed as a King. You see up in Daelyn we are simple folk who value hard work and honesty above anything else. While we all know who our King is, we've never seen or actually heard from you. We don't have fancy courts and nobles."
No one had talked to him like that since his days with the Companions of Everknight. They never let him forget that they weren't noble and this young man's candid observations snapped him out of his overprotective father role just as quick. "I'm sorry Rhoe, you're right. That was wrong of me. Tell me then, what ceremony was this that you both were included in, that you are now married." It hurt to even say it out loud. Nothing against this young man, who by all respects was a decent hard working young man, but he wasn't prepared for this at all.
"The faeries called it a Revel,
and no I don't remember much of it."
"I thought you don't drink? Or is this why you don't drink." Arian was still stunned that faeries were real. He never fully believed Karsis about them and now he would probably have to apologize to him as well.
"No sir, I didn't have any of their drink, It was their food. You see it is just as intoxicating, apparently, and I was unaware of that. Before you ask, No we did not do anything untoward with each other, that I am sure of."
"But if you don't remember, how can you be sure?" He wasn't angry anymore, now the story was pulling him in more than anything else. He missed this part of adventure.
"I rode a unicorn." Rhoe whispered quietly, embarrassed to say it in front of such an important man, but he felt compelled to be honest
"What was that, I didn't hear you."
"I rode a unicorn."
Arian was so caught off guard he didn't hear the page announce the seneschal. "Oh, well don't worry son, that makes me like you even more." He winked at the young man and turned to the door to see Othren walk in. "Well come Othren, do sit and meet Rhoe, son of Gareth and Tierra Whiteheart."
"So this is the young man everyone in the castle is talking about." Othren sat down and couldn't help but stare at the young boy. He thought he would be taller....and more muscled. He marveled at the boy's hair though. Something about it was tickling his memories, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
Rhoe bowed to the older man and noticed that he walked with a small limp, but it was barely noticeable. Not bad for a man of his age. Not bad at all. He saw that the man wore a holy symbol of the Goddess Ollian, seemingly made of pure silver, denoting that he was a high ranking cleric of the Goddess of beauty and songs. The man had deep knowing eyes and short close cropped silvered hair. "Pleasure to meet you good sir."
The Darkness Within (A Lythinall Novel) (Book 2) Page 16