Green Rising

by AZ Kelvin

The late afternoon sun shone through the clouds as they reached the border of Grannagh Province and an hour or so later, they dismounted in Glen Arwe. Quinlan helped Joseah unload the wagon of children

  “Silari!” Joseah called out.

  “Here, Primerey,” he said from around the wagon.

  “Take charge here in Glen Arwe and see to our druids,” she said when he came over.

  “Aye, I will, but where do ye think ye’re goin’?”

  “I’m off to Pinebough.”

  “Ye need ta get some rest, Jo,” Silari said.

  “I can rest on the way or when I get there.”

  “At least change yer robes and wash yer hair afore ye go unless ye intend on scarin’ them all away,” he said.

  “Ha, Silari, I do love you, my friend. Perhaps it will rain along the way.”

  “Jo.”

  Joseah turned to him but said nothing.

  “Even ye need time ta adjust ta what’s happened,” he said. “Have ye even tried ta commune with Na’veyja the last day or two?”

  She could not meet his eyes.

  “Is that nae important ta ye?”

  “What”—she lowered her voice—“if she is not there?”

  “What if she is and needs our help in some way?”

  “Yes, of course, you are right,” she said. “You are my blue sky, Silari.”

  “Aye, well, wise Master Blue Sky says, bath, dinner, commune, rest, and then ye can go.” He turned to Quin. “Do ye nae think?”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” Quinlan said. “I think I shall follow it myself.”

  “I dinnae think ye had yer ethereal passage trainin’ yet, Quin.”

  “No, Segoney, not officially.” He took the opportunity to tell them of the vision during his moon dance and of what took place in Drifting Leaf.

  “By the Goddess!” Joseah exclaimed. “Askue is a conduit of the esbat’s power? Ugh, right under my very nose and I had not the wisdom to see it. And it took you and Askue and Wylla and Freyn combined to awaken the carraig?”

  “Yes.”

  Joseah shook her head. “All I had to do was open my mind and the answers fall to me like ash from the sky.”

  “Primerey?” Quinlan asked.

  “The esbat is an entity of the Vast and Acimasiz is an entity of the Vast,” she said. “That may be the key to his weakness. Yes, yes, I must try to commune immediately! Quin, does your group ride for Pinebough?”

  “Yes, we leave at daybreak. The Kalnuvian contingent rides with us to join their main force stationed there.”

  “I shall ride with you as well. I must speak with Kenri.”

  “We’d be honored to have you along, Primerey,” he said, but she had already hurried off.

  ~~~

  The sky was dark in the predawn hours of the next morning and would stay that way until the sun rose over the cloud mass of the volcano to the east. A fair-sized group prepared to ride for Pinebough. There were the eight druids, Captain Kinworthy, and his troop of two dozen Kalnuvian regulars.

  An afternoon after a week’s travel found the troop at the flower-covered grave mound of the Torac along the northern edge of Drifting Leaf. A group of Gwylari was entering the watershed as they rode up.

  “Lah tam, druidae,” the unusually somber chieftain wished them a good afternoon.

  “Lah tam, Chieftain,” Quinlan replied. “I am Quinlan, formerly of the Northern West Conclave.”

  “Myzani Nal, of Deep Root village. Our hearts weep for thee and thyne. Such tragedy went unlooked for.”

  “Gratitude, Myzani Nal, and our hearts go out to you and your people as well,” Joseah said.

  Quinlan noticed more than the one group of Gwylari heading down the trail into Drifting Leaf.

  “Where do your people go?” Quinlan asked.

  “The great enemy hath shattered the peace of the world once more as thee doth know,” he said. “We journey hence to rise against.”

  “What of Na’veyja, Myzani Nal?” Joseah asked.

  “The goddess is elsewhere ’til otherwise,” he said. “To Pinebough thee travels?”

  “Yes,” Quinlan answered.

  “Then soon we shall see thee again.” Myzani Nal turned and continued on his way.

  The troop took the roadway around the watershed turning onto the southwest branch toward Pinebough instead of straight on to the southern crossroads between Shaan and Vakere. The southwest roadway took them into the last mountain range before the coastal lowlands of southern Shaan.

  “That peak looks like a wolf’s head,” Ticca said.

  “Yi and it’s named such: Wolf’s Head Peak,” Therin replied. “The hole ya can see through near the top is called the wolf’s eye, which is why this is called Wolf’s Eye Pass. The village of me birth lies a day ta the west of here.”

  “Goldenfield,” Joseah said.

  “Yi, ya know of it?”

  “Yes, my husband was from Springsborough.”

  “Ni!” he said. “That’s only half a day’s walk from Goldenfield. Did your husband perish in the…”

  “Eruption?” She took a deep sigh. “No, he followed some damn fool on an idealistic crusade and returned with an illness that slowly devoured him until he died.”

  “Oh, me condolences, Primerey.”

  “Gratitude, Therin.”

  Quinlan caught what she said and lined it up with what he knew of Kenri and Eldret’s quest with a band of rogue druids, which led to the discovery of the carraig. Were they the first Wardens of the Woods? Was Joseah’s late husband one of the ill-fated druids?

  He looked up and saw her watching him. She smiled sadly and shrugged. He rode close to her and spoke quietly. “Tangetan?”

  She nodded.

  “I understand so many things now, Primerey.”

  “All people are responsible for their own choices,” she said. “My husband paid for his with his life. Have you never wondered why Kenri is not dead of the same illness that claimed his brethren?”

  Quinlan was surprised by the question until he realized he had never thought to ask. “No, until now.”

  “He took ill and did not go into the black mist, yet he was fine when they came back, claiming he had recovered from a sour stomach.”

  The truth stung his confidence in Kenri. “He never said anything to us.”

  “No, but blame him not, Quin. He relived that choice with every day Eldret suffered before his eyes. I did not contact Kenri when my husband died. It did not occur to me to care about what they had found. I was that bitter about it back then. Somehow, Na’veyja guided you to him so Drifting Leaf could be saved and perhaps him as well. The mists of probability cloud over the morrow.” She closed her eyes and seemed quite tired.

  “Just over this pass, Primerey and we are there,” he said.

  They breached Wolf’s Eye Pass as the last curve of the sun dashed beyond the horizon with a bright green flash. The fine city of Pinebough lay spread out in the valley below the pass. The flame glimmer of hearth fires and candles shone from many doors and windows. Street lanterns lit the lanes silhouetting the city in a warm ember glow against the deep shadows of the valley.

  Kalnuvian soldiers lit torches and set riders along the perimeter of the group to light the way, and they rode into the city.

  *~*~*

  Chapter Twenty-One

  A sergeant of the guard greeted them at the gate of Pinebough and needed only a brief inspection of the badge Modgrin Macreeth gave to Quinlan before he granted them entry. They were directed to the Moonshine Inn where rooms had been held for them.

  “Quin, Primerey Joseah,” Captain Kinworthy rode up as they cleared the gate. “The men and I’ll be taking our leave. I must be making my report to the colonel.”

  “Randall, your company on the trail has been a great pleasure.” Quinlan grasped the man’s hand in farewell. “Take good care on the battlefield, my friend.”

  “And you,” Randall replied. “We’ll be telling tall tales of victory
at the end of it.”

  “Captain, my deepest gratitude for coming to our assistance,” Joseah said. “It will not be forgotten.”

  “My greatest pleasure, ma’am.” He tipped his hat. “Column, ho!”

  Captain Kinworthy led his troops away down the lane.

  “Therin, you know of the Moonshine Inn?” Quinlan asked.

  “Yi, it’s close by, down this way.” He pointed to the right-hand lane. “Kinda tough ta miss.”

  “An inn?” Quinan asked when they arrived. “Saying such is a grievous understatement. Ten inns could not rival this one in size.”

  Two full-sized establishments sat on either side of the reception building, which was backed by a triple-hearthed kitchen. A multifloored lodge in back dwarfed the three-building complex out front and looked like it could house an army.

  “Welcome ta the Moonshine Inn, milords and ladies!” a young man said as he strode out to greet them. “My name is Wayn. How may I be of service? Food, drink, lodgin’, or all?”

  “All!” the druids answered in unison.

  “Very good!” Wayn signaled to a group of boys, who took the horses to the stables.

  “Quin, I’ll go with them and bed the horses,” Kian said. “Make sure they get a rubdown and some bee biscuits.”

  “Yes, gratitude, Kian.”

  “I’ll go with ye,” Swela said.

  Quinlan and the rest followed Wayn into the reception building.

  The lobby’s desk and its walls and ceiling were made of polished planks, poles, and beams constructed from different woods. A carved and painted sign reading The Chipped Cup hung on the wall by the left entryway. Another sign over the right entryway made in the same manner but with different colors read The Broken Belt. The tavern was to the left and the brasserie to the right, both of which offered food and drink. The latter just had more tables than the other.

  The sound of a band came from The Chipped Cup. The noise of many people talking and laughing coming from both places nearly drowned out the band’s music.

  “Here we are, folks. Sire Malstrom will book ya in. If ya need anythin’ durin’ your stay, Wayn is at your service.” He bowed and remained there smiling at them.

  “Ah, the gratuity,” Quinlan said. He took a pinch of something out of a drawstring pouch and placed it in Wayn’s hand.

  The young man had a skeptical look on his face until he looked down and saw a small red ruby sitting in his palm. The gemstone was not highly valuable but it was worth more than double the amount he usually received. He snatched his hand closed and bowed deeply. “Deepest gratitude, milord. If ya want for anythin’, anythin’ at all, call for Wayn.”

  A deep baritone voice rose above the din and sang the last few verses of the band’s song. The comedic ballad prompted the patrons to roar with laughter as the singer crooned the final punchline.

  “Oh…” Ticca whispered, her eyebrows popping up.

  Quinlan turned around to find the most immense man he had ever seen. He was dressed in robes that did not hide the fact his belly hung to his knees. Thick, glossy, black hair bobbed about his head in perfect ringlets and spirals. The cleanly shaven face was red cheeked and slightly sweaty.

  “Ha, ha, ha, glorious! Glorious!” the impromptu singer said as he emerged from The Chipped Cup. “Hallooo, my friends! Welcome! Welcome to the Moonshine. My apologies for the wait, but I had to do my civic duty and make sure the ale had not staled—and sing some, too. My name’s Sire Malstrom. You can call me either or both, your choice. Rooms, I’ll bet you’re wantin’?”

  “Yes,” Quinlan said, “they’re being held, I’m told.”

  “Good or I’d have nothin’ for you,” Malstrom replied. “Booked to the rafters with Raskans as they say, and they do love a good ale.” He took down the last three keys from hooks on the wall. “Here we are.” He read from a note. “I’m to tell Quinlan, Cassae has your key, and, Therin, Sovia has yours. These are for Ticari and Ticca, Kian and Swela, and Joseah.” He put a key down for each set of names.

  “Gratitude, Sire Malstrom,” Quinlan said. “What do we owe you for the rooms?”

  “Not a thing,” he answered. “King Renalth has more than covered all costs for those in his party, which is the entire inn and half the city. I think I shall cry when you folks go. The lodge is straight through here to the back”—he pointed to a hallway leading to a set of doors—“when you’re ready. The bottom floor of the lodge is reserved for the lords and war masters of Raskan. The stables are on the far side.”

  “Your kindness is appreciated, Malstrom,” Quinan said.

  “Kindness is a currency that never loses value. I hope you enjoy your stay, my friends.”

  “Ticca?” Sovia exclaimed as she walked out of The Broken Belt with a load of four covered baskets in her arms. “Oh, and there be every druid else! Na’veyja be praised. Therin-love, you be a looked-for sight. Get down here.” She kissed him soundly when he bent down. “And here, you can be taking some of these baskets while you’re here.”

  Ticari stepped up to take some as well.

  “Gratitude, Ticari,” she said. “Blessed be your heart, love. Primerey Joseah, lah quen, I’m Sovia. If there be anything you need, please ask, no matter what. My heart be torn open by the tragedy.”

  “And mine, Sovia. It has touched us all with shadow. Together we shall walk in the light again. Gratitude for your concern. Whatever is in those baskets smells delightful.”

  “Dinner for Cassae and me to go up to the room. Quin, you be a sight for sore eyes, too. Give us a hug. Ahh—best bring more dinner now you all be here. Ticca-love, come and help, if you would.” Sovia held her arm out to her.

  “Of course.” Ticca hugged Sovia so hard it made Pie Thief squeak.

  “Oh, hush Pie, and you be keeping your paws to yourself, you riscally-rascally-roustabout,” Sovia said. “Come, the kitchen be this way.”

  “Sov!” Therin said as they walked off.

  “What?” she stopped and asked.

  “The rooms?” he asked.

  “Oh, ha! Right, they all be together.” She came back and pointed to the doors in the rear. “Go out through there, then they be all the way up and all the way south.”

  They followed her directions and found the rooms. The commotion of them sorting out rooms must have drawn Cassae’s attention. The door at the end opened and she looked out.

  “Quin!” She flew out of the room and into his arms where they stayed for a minute.

  “I’ve missed you more every day since we parted,” he said.

  “I missed ya too,” she replied as they separated. “Primerey Joseah, it does me heart glad ta see ya.”

  “Cassae, my dear, how are you?” She embraced her. “I have missed our time together at the conclave, but I rejoice in your healing.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without your help. I am well because of it.”

  “How is Chyne?” Quinlan asked.

  “She appears ta sleep yet will not awaken,” Cassae said.

  “Show me to her. Let us see what healing is left in these old hands,” Joseah said.

  Cassae showed them in and greeted the rest of her grove mates. Chyne lay on the bed in a room off the common area. Quinlan thought she did not look at home on a bed in a room. She needed to be out among nature and under the sky.

  Joseah went work, immediately pulling the bedsheet down. She inspected Chyne’s eyes, ears, mouth, and even the withered plants on her clothing. She listened to Chyne’s chest and felt the side of her neck.

  She straightened up and faced them. “Right, Cassae, I shall need your help. We shall require sprigs of slippery elm, echinacea, calendula, peppermint, eucalyptus, elder, burdock, lavender, and yarrow. Also, for the tincture, we need plantain and comfrey, chamomile and rose hips, and cayenne and nightshade. First, though, we will need to eat. We must be strong. This is going to take some time.”

  Sovia, Ticca, Swela, and Kian all came in with the rest of dinner. The grove enjoyed a qu
ick meal together for the first time in weeks. The tale of finding the survivors was told before splitting off to find or grow the herbs Joseah had requested. They reconvened shortly at the inn’s kitchens.

  “Gratitude, Malstrom, for allowing us the use of a hearth,” Quinlan said as he brought some of the herbs into the smaller kitchen of the Moonshine Inn.

  “My pleasure, Master Quinlan, my pleasure. I’ll have that cot for your friend brought around straight away. I’ve never seen magic before. You’re sure nothin’s goin’ to blow up?”

  “Ah—fairly sure.” He acted concerned but then grinned.

  “Ah! Ha ha! I do like you, Master Quinlan. You’re a good man. Ha!”

  Quinlan told the truth. He was fairly sure nothing would blow up. Two inn employees carried in a cot with a thin mattress. Therin followed them in, carrying Chyne. Joseah told them where to place the cot and Chyne. The grove had gathered everything required for the healing ritual.

  Joseah looked at them all as they stood around the table of herbs, oils, and powders. “I feel the presence of Acimasiz in the world. It burns like a hot coal dropped into an open sandal. I still feel Na’veyja’s presence too, but she feels far away. If you attempt to seek her, you will not find her. Instead, clear your minds and open your spirits to her as an invitation. We will persevere. Now, let’s bring our loved one home, shall we?”

  “What do you need us to do?” Quinlan asked.

  “First, we need to brew the extract, so we need to make a much,” Joseah said. “We need to mash and macerate the combined ingredients into a mass of plant matter and juices. So, Ticari, we need eight chamomile blossom buttons. Pick all the white petals off and pluck the stem, leaving only the central yellow disc. Put them into the kettle.”

  “What is the much for, Primerey?” Ticari asked.

  “We must bring out such things as the alkaloids, inulins, nutrients, and proteins from the plants and strain the broth containing them. Ticca, you chop sixteen plantain leaves, nice and fine, and into the kettle they go.”

  “Yes, Primerey. What do we do then?”

  “We steep the much until it bubbles, then we pour it into a cloth bag and twist it to extract the juices from the much, leaving the plant matter called the pomace in the bag to be discarded. Swela, if you would chop eight comfrey plants—root, stem, flower, and all—in the same manner, please.”