Unclasping her shell from around her neck, she placed her merdoe between them as she accepted his firm grasp. “I appreciate your friendship,” she informed him when they reached the end of the row. Large butterflies danced atop the blooms and she sighed. “I think we may be stuck here for the winter. The air is cool, even with my sweater, and I fear it will be too cold to travel.”
“It will be better once we are down off the mountain,” he countered, laughing as Oldrilin rolled in the grass. “I wonder if she misses being a mermaid,” he observed, changing the subject abruptly as a distraction. “Or, if she will ever be able to transform again.”
“I’m sure that she will once she is completely healed,” Ami agreed to the new topic. “If she needs the saltwater, we can take her back to the ocean when we leave. Perhaps she will swim back to Riran, even if we don’t go that way ourselves.”
Blinking rapidly, Rey fought his own tears. “I would hate to see her go,” he admitted in a quiet voice.
“Yeah, me too,” Amicia agreed. “For now, let’s go and play with her. Forget about being grown up for a while and chase some butterflies,” she suggested with a giggle.
“I can do that,” he chuckled, dropping her hand and jogging after their diminutive friend. Catching up to her, he sank to his knees beside her. Lin had her hands clasped in front of her, as if she had captured something.
Joining them, Amicia squatted, careful not to dig her own knees into the grass and stain the fine material of her dress. “What have you found?” she inquired, offering Rey her hand so he could hear.
“Tis a dragon worm,” the mermaid offered, parting her hands and exposing the small caterpillar. Its body a bright green with yellow spots, two horns protruded from the wide head that moved slowly from side to side as it explored her pudgy palm.
“Oh my,” Amicia gasped, her breath light as the excitement filled her. “Will it become a butterfly… or a dragon?”
“In the spring, a most beautiful butterfly,” Lin replied with a bright smile. “He will eat until the first snow and then cocoon himself for winter. When spring comes, his wings will spread so he can fly.”
“That’s amazing,” Rey agreed, offering his hand so the squirming creature could crawl over to him, briefly wondering if they would still be there in the spring to see it. Unsure, he sighed deeply at the prospect of being trapped in Jerranyth once the weather turned bad.
“Don’t worry,” Amicia offered, confident what he was thinking. Taking her turn to hold the dragon worm, she stood to place it among the giant blooms. “We will be long gone before he emerges in the spring.”
“Hello, Bally,” Animir greeted his human friend when he arrived in the armory. “What of this day?”
“Hey, Animir,” Baldwin grinned. “Another beautiful day in Jerranyth. I’ve come to spend it with you here in the forge, if you don’t mind. And to have you up for dinner in our suite, later. I want to introduce you to our friend, the siren Oldrilin,” he announced proudly.
“She is well?” Animir asked, his command of the language after only a few days impressive.
“Almost,” Bally agreed with a shrug. “She’s with us in the tower now, so we’re having our meals there if you care to join us.”
“Yes, sharing is pleasant,” Animir agreed. “For this, let us make arrows,” he suggested, indicating his collection of parts he intended to assemble.
“Sure, show me how,” the shorter man suggested as he straightened his stocking cap. He always wore it, but that day in particular he felt glad to have it, as a cool nip could be felt in the air, especially in the shadow of the forge.
Taking a few pieces of feather, the elf selected a shaft and began to demonstrate how to attach them. Following his instructions, Bally did his best to add some to his own thin slivers of wood, but it proved more difficult than he anticipated. Eventually, he simply played with the parts while Animir got to work on completing the task.
Once they had finished, the pair left the forge and scurried along the path, smacking each other playfully and laughing along the way. Arriving at a garden that ran along the lower edge of the town, they spent the rest of the afternoon using the shrubs as cover as they spied on beautiful elf maids who wandered among the flowers. After about an hour of the spectacle, Bally recognized the Mate, lying in the grass with a portly brunette.
“I’ll be damned,” he muttered, pointing him out to his friend.
Watching the couple, he could see Piers as he used a plucked flower to tickle her creamy skin. Then leaning in closer, he whispered something into her ear, which elicited a loud giggle from her perfect pink lips that floated across to Bally on the cool afternoon air. Squinting as he smiled at her, the man’s age crinkled his skin, but his spirit appeared unmistakably young when he pressed his forehead to hers and laughed in his deep, robust tones.
“He’s so lucky,” Baldwin breathed, observing as he stood and helped the female elf to her feet. “I so wish I could have his charm. The girls fall at his feet with desire for him, I swear it,” he confessed.
“He is your friend, yes?” Animir asked, watching as the couple exited the area hand in hand, presumably to return to the spire.
“Aye,” Bally nodded. “Only he’s way better with the ladies than me, for sure,” he laughed. “Maybe we should talk to some of them,” he suggested, forgetting for a moment he couldn’t understand anything they had to say to him.
“Ok,” Animir agreed, leading his companion out of their hiding place and onto one of the paths.
“Wait,” Bally interjected, getting cold feet as soon as they entered the clearing. “Let’s go play with the swords, instead. Sword fights are way more fun than girls anyway.”
Laughing at his young friend, the elf agreed. Baldwin was his guest, and he was more than happy to oblige him, whatever his choice might be. “Come then,” he called, waving a hand for him to follow as he led him back to the forge and storage hall to select their weapons.
Picking out a small group of swords, the two young men each took one and clanged them against one another noisily beneath the overcast sky. Laughing, Bally used both hands to swing his massive weapon, then spun to avoid being struck by a skilled blow from the elf. “You’re too good,” he hooted, turning to face him once more. “I need practice,” he confessed, lowering the weapon that felt heavy in his grasp.
“You need better blade,” Animir corrected. Stopping the fight by holding up his hand, he marched over to the pile they had brought out for their dueling. Trying a few of them with one hand, he finally found the one he wanted and held it out to the other man. “For you,” he grunted.
“Ok, I’ll try this one,” Bally agreed. He had no real knowledge of swords, so any advice would be useful. Balancing it on two fingers where the handle met the steel of the blade, it felt lighter than the one he had been using, and he looked at it doubtfully. “It’s not too wimpy, is it?” he asked, then shrugged. “It’s ok, I’ll give it a try.”
“No,” Animir shook his head, placing his hand on the grip and pushing it firmly towards his friend. “Give for you.”
“Give for me,” Baldwin repeated. “You mean for me to keep it?” he asked, his mouth wide in surprise, “Oh, wow!”
“Yes, for you!” Animir grinned.
Admiring the shiny metal, Bally beamed, “Thanks! I’ve never had a sword before,” he confessed, stepping back and giving it a few swings. Pivoting the blade and twirling it so that it whisked past his body, first left and then right, over and over again, he laughed. “This feels good!”
“Yes, good. Bally keep.”
“Aye, I’ll keep,” he agreed, his face flushed with joy. “Thanks, man. I don’t know what to say,” he said more calmly, with a deep inhale and exhale to slow his trembling. “Thank you,” he repeated, overcome with gratitude.
“Bally friend of Animir,” the elf announced, his hand flat on his chest as he said his own name.
“Yes, always,” Baldwin agreed, still admiring the sword. R
unning his finger over the sharp edge, it caught and made a long cut in his finger, “Ow, shit.” Placing the digit in his mouth, he sucked the flow, then pulled it out and flicked it in the air. “That hurts!”
“Ow,” Animir repeated, grinning at Bally’s foolishness.
“Aye,” his friend agreed with a laugh. “Is it a bad omen to cut yourself on your new sword?”
“You fine, Baldwin Carter,” Animir replied. “Now, is time for dinner,” he suggested, ready to join the others in the suite for the evening meal.
A Hasty Retreat
Seeing the Mate’s door closed when they arrived, Ami chose to look the other way. Removing her sweater, she carried it into her room and hung it over the back of her chair. Resting her hand fondly on Bally’s clothing, she sighed, longing to put them on and leave the realm of the elves for good.
In the common room, she could hear Rey adding logs and stoking their fire. “We should close the drapes to the balcony, as well,” she suggested, moving to do so. “It doesn’t provide enough light to be worth the loss in heat.”
“Aye,” he agreed, glancing around to see that their lamps were lit. “I assume they will deliver our dinner without having to be asked?”
“Well, if you doubt it, you could always go down and ask the chambermaid,” she suggested evenly. “Their quarters are the second door up, on the first landing.”
“Is that so,” he replied. “I didn’t know what was behind all those doors. How do you know?”
“I asked,” she laughed, still peeking between the drawn drapes at the dark clouds forming on the horizon and realizing she never had made her way down for a proper introduction to the couple. Watching the grey sky, she sighed, “Remember when we were on the raft and could see the rain coming?”
“Aye,” he agreed, placing his hand on her shoulder as he joined her. “We needed that rain. I can’t believe how close we came to not making it.”
Nodding, she closed the material and turned away. “Where’s Lin?”
“She climbed into my bed for a nap,” he laughed, cutting it short when Piers’s door swung open and a young female elf made her exit. Stepping aside, he looked her up and down as she passed and began her descent. The Mate’s grin wide, he followed her, watching until she disappeared into the abyss below.
Rubbing the hairs on his chest, their leader coughed noisily, cutting his eyes over at the young woman who did her best to pretend not to see. “When’s dinner?”
“When it arrives,” she replied, still not looking at him. Instead, she fiddled with her merdoe, positioning it back into its place between her breasts.
Grunting, Piers returned to his quarters to wash himself and prepare for the meal that hopefully would arrive soon. On the stairs, Bally and Animir made a fair bit of racket as they climbed the final ascent. Reaching the stop, Baldwin announced, “I’m bleeding!” followed by fits of laughter.
His shirt spotted with blood, Ami gasped, “Whatever happened to you?” Her mouth open wide, her heart raced. “Here, get your shirt off, and we’ll use it to stop the flow,” she commanded.
Pulling it over his head while still giggling, he presented it and the injury to her. “It’s only a little cut,” he amended, taking his new prize from his friend. “Look what Animir gave me!” Offering the blade to Rey, he beamed with pride.
“And you cut yourself on it,” the Mate stated gruffly, joining the group while shaking his head in disgust. Taking over the nursing, he pulled the injured appendage towards him and scowled. “We need to wash this really well. Aye, not a large cut, but it can become infected easily and take your whole hand.”
Instantly sober, the younger man clenched his jaw, “Surely not.”
“Let him tend to you,” Rey seconded the opinion while inspecting the sword. “Wow, this is a really nice one,” he observed, nodding at Animir, who grinned at him. “Did you make it?”
“No, I make arrows,” the elf corrected.
“Ah, well, it’s still a great sword. Almost as good as the one the Mate made for me,” Rey laughed, moving away from the others to give it a few swings.
Placing a basin of water on the table for them, Amicia frowned. “You boys should be more careful. The last thing we want is for one of us to delay our chances of departure any further.”
“Aye,” the Mate agreed, pulling the boy over and using the cool liquid to clean the wound and inspect it.
“What’s happened?” Sadrir squealed from the top of the stairs. Walking slowly towards the group gathered around the table, she glanced at the elf who hovered near the fire.
“Nothing,” Piers replied, still tending to the wound. “Just a kid being a kid, that’s all. I’d like a needle and some clean thread, though, if you can get it for me. And I’m sure you are aware that we need our dinner,” he tacked on, cutting his eyes over at her briefly to emphasize the command.
“Yes, I’m aware of your need of a meal,” the girl replied tartly, her face pale at the sight of the blood. Seeing the boy’s bare chest, she scowled, “The blood will never come out of that shirt. Would you like a new one?”
“She’s offering a replacement,” Amicia translated, her face still drawn with concern as she indicated the stained article.
“Hey, that goes for me too, if I may,” Rey agreed, showing off his torn edges where he had removed strips to bandage the siren after they left Riran.
“All right, dinner, a needle with thread, and a couple of new shirts,” Sadrir detailed with a curtsy before leaving them to their mending.
Staring at the basin of blood-stained water, Bally sniveled, “You weren’t serious about the hand, were you, Mate?”
“Only if we don’t take care of it, son,” the older man replied, his brow furrowed. “It’s clean, and it’s closed for the moment. Hold pressure on this,” he instructed him, showing how to keep the bandage he had formed closed. “And don’t peek! I’ll stitch it up when she gets back, and we’ll know in a few days how serious it is.”
Half an hour later, Sadrir returned with the shirts and sewing supplies, which she dropped off before going back down to ensure their dinner would be served on time. Making quick work of the stitches, the Mate appeared pleased with the results.
“I think you’ll be fine,” he announced, glancing around the circle of concerned faces as he finished. “Don’t worry, guys. We’ll know in a few days. The cut was clean and properly dressed. That’s about all we can do at this point.”
Holding the injured digit gingerly, Bally sighed. “I guess I need to be more careful next time.”
“Aye,” Rey agreed. “A sword isn’t a toy. What were you doing to cut yourself like that?” he chided.
“I was just looking at it,” the younger man defended, cutting his eyes over at the elf and feeling foolish at their afternoon of clanging them together. “I’m going to go lay down until we can eat.”
Watching him exit, Ami thought about his elf friend and how much of their language he had learned. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could reverse my shell?” she observed randomly.
“How do you mean?” Piers inquired, cleaning up his mess and clearing off the table so it could be set for the meal.
“I mean, as it is, we can hear their words in our language, but what if we could use it to have their words come out in our language?”
“That would be weird,” Rey observed, putting Bally’s sword in his room as the old couple arrived to tend to their evening’s needs.
“And damned useful,” the first mate countered. “Bring it out and let’s see if you can make it happen.”
Pulling the stone out, the girl unlatched the cord and held the object in her hand, admiring the warmth. Turning to Animir, she beckoned him closer. Holding out her hand with the shell in her palm, she instructed, “Place your hand in mine. That’s it,” she praised as he slid his digits between hers, sandwiching the device. “Now, say something,” she commanded.
“What shall I say?” he replied.
Immediate lau
ghter broke out from the three mortals, and Rey quipped, “That’s a nice trick right there! We should have done it with Oldrilin last night.”
“We didn’t think of it last night,” Amicia agreed, adjusting their grip. “But yes, this is nice. You can sit by me as we eat, and we’ll put the shell between us. Whenever you need to speak, we can both place our hands on it and you can have your say.”
He nodded, understanding fully and happy that the arrangement had been made. “They will bring the meal?” he asked, indicating the couple who had been making trips into the room while they tested her trinket.
Nodding, Amicia grinned, “Yes. It will only take a few minutes, and we can settle in for our dinner.”
The old man dropped the wood onto the stack while his wife delivered the pitchers of water, and Piers observed, “Well then, let’s get washed and ready to eat,” dismissing them all to their quarters until the table had been set and their supper served.
A short time later, they regrouped, as the old couple had disappeared, and they could gather around the large table to dine. Oldrilin joined them for her broth and praised Ami for her discovery of how the merdoe could be used.
Baldwin also appeared, looking rested and somewhat better after the short nap. Taking his seat across from his friend, he beamed, “Now we can really have a conversation.”
Placing their hands side by side, the tips of the fingers on Ami’s left hand and Animir’s right pressed against the chalky white surface. “I’m happy to speak with you,” the elf agreed, followed by another joyous round of soft laughter.
Smiling, Amicia declared, “Nothing can stop us if we refuse to give up.”
“That’s true,” Piers agreed, raising his goblet in a toast. “To new friends.”
Using his left hand to join the sentiment, Animir observed, “You have been most welcome among us. I am pleased to be seated at your table.”
“Aye,” Baldwin approved. “Too bad we can’t stay here forever.”
Whisper of Suffering Page 23