by D. H. Aire
“Car, delayed season.”
“Oh…” She looked up at him from the floor. “That’s why I feel so rotten and good at the same time?”
Me’oh came out of the bathroom, towels in one arm and baby in the other.
“Not sure,” Bal said, glancing at Me’oh. “It could also be because you’ve just conceived.”
Carwina’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
Chapter 15 – Festival Day
They arrived at the city gate at sunset. “Captain!” the Imperial guardsman shouted.
Captain Yates came out of the gate’s guard station. “What?”
The guardsman pointed.
Yates had seen many odd sights over the past months, but nothing like this. He gaped at the troll leading the boy on a white unicorn and an ox cart filled with peasant dressed girls drove by he didn’t know what, was enough to give any man pause.
“Uh, halt,” the guardsman said, sounding uncertain.
The boy rode forward, “Hello, sir.”
“What’s your business in the city?” Yates asked.
“Um, we’re here for the festival.”
“Oh, really… with two trolls?” he replied.
“What? You don’t like trolls?” the giant asked.
“It talks,” the guardsman rasped.
“Don’t ask him to dance,” the miniature version said.
“Then you aren’t entertainers, at least,” Yates said.
“No, sir,” the boy said. “Just here for festival.”
That’s when Yates saw the white horse’s horn suddenly appear before the unicorn winked at him.
“Ahem, well, I guess you’re not here to invade…” Yates said, waving them on. “Enjoy the festivities.”
Casber grinned.
#
The old Legionnaire shook his head. “Sir, the other guard,” a dwarf said. “That was a troll… like in the legends.”
“Without a doubt.”
“We just let a troll into the city.”
The veteran smiled, “He seemed very well mannered.”
“Huh?”
“And they had an Imperial pass.”
“A pass?”
“That white horse and the boy,” he chuckled. “Of course, he’d be a boy.”
“What are you talking about?” the dwarf asked.
“That, my short friend, was the unicorn and that boy is the Highmage’s Hand. They go where they want with who they want. That’s one of the first rules of the Legion. Trust the unicorn and the Hand; they speak with the Highmage’s voice.”
“But there hasn’t been a Hand in…”
“Alrex is dead. Long live the new Highmage. Now the question is, do I report this or not?” The dwarf frowned. “Second rule, the Hand likes traveling without fanfare… That is, if that boy even knows he is the Hand.”
#
Revit was laying on the bedcover on the floor, his pillow his only company. Aliana and Belina rested on the bed. Aliana had her back to him. Belina, on the other hand, seemed to be staring at him with her eyes closed.
He winced. She’d begun itching badly at the end. Her skin was rather soft…
There was a knock at the door.
He hastily rose and tried to hide the bedcover and pillow out of sight beside the bed. “Yes?”
Grigg opened the door, glaring until he saw that only Aliana and Belina where under the sheets. “Excuse me, you have guests.”
“Guests?”
Ri and Terus entered.
“Oh,” Revit said, “ah, you finally made it… um, hope you had a chance to enjoy the buffet.”
“Actually, no.”
“Grigg, I mean, Sergeant, can you please bring our friends platters?”
“I’ll send a Legionnaire for some servants… Milord.”
Revit smiled, “That would be lovely.” Grigg closed the door. “Uh, Aliana, you didn’t have to give him the key to our room.”
“Oh, yes, I did.”
Terus frowned, “Revit, I want to strangle you!”
“Uh, Belina, this is my best friend, Terus… and Ri.”
Belina was staring, “You.”
“Hi, Be, scheming to betray him yet?”
“What?”
Belina leaped out of the bed as Ri charged her. Revit and Terus looked at each other as Aliana shouted, “Do something!”
They did.
“Hey, let us down!” they cried, floating off the floor, unable to claw each other’s eyes out.
“Going to behave yourselves?”
“She can’t be trusted!” Ri cried.
“Because she’s Grendel’s daughter?” Revit asked.
“No, you should have seen what she did at school. She terrorized the youngers and lorded it over…”
Belina seethed, “I’m sorry about that, but… I couldn’t be seen as weak!”
“Weak? You were mean and vindictive!” Ri yelled.
Aliana nodded, “She was awful.”
Revit said, “And she’s… my wife and my problem. You’re Terus’s apprentice.”
“Actually, I think Ri’s my wife,” Terus replied.
“I am not!”
“What?” Revit muttered.
“The prelate waved his hand and pronounced us ‘man and wife,’” Terus said.
Ri shook her head, “We… are not… married.”
Grigg opened the door, “Neither is my daughter… understood, Revit?”
“Yes, uh, Pappa.”
The graying Legionnaire glared, “Aliana…”
“He won’t do that again, will you, Revit.”
The bane sword half out of Grigg’s sheath wiped the grin from his face, “No, sir.”
“Enjoy sleeping on the floor, boys.”
#
Ander kissed him as Ruke prepared to open the window and slip back out. “Ruke, all that matters to me is that you love me.”
“I do… I really do. But no one else can ever know.”
“I hope I’ve ruined you for her.”
Juels knocked on the door. “The patrol’s gone.”
Ruke took one last look at Ander.
“Thanks for helping me with my… itch,” she said.
Smiling, he opened the window and slipped back out onto the ledge.
#
They sold the oxen and the cart to the owner of a stable yard, who thought he could profit nicely before festival’s end. He glanced at the girls, “Them’s best gotten off this Tier’s streets quick. Well, used be good advice, all them Cathartans been changing things… But drunk men are still… damn fools.”
“Well, where can we buy some arrows?” Yel’ane asked.
“Uh, that way,” he pointed.
“Thank you,” Lawson said as Nessa chuckled, knowing Yel’ane did not want to return to their kin underdressed for the occasion.
The girls in their charge were rested and the olders positioned themselves to better defend the youngers as the marched behind Casber and the white horse through the Seventh Tier as night brought out predators to the festive scene.
#
Ebb watched the suspected agent, who was likely from Hayden or Llewellyn. The man was scoping out another of the Cathartan enclaves, serving as home to a hundred or so of the women and their daughters.
A man in a dark robe intercepted his target who feigned interest in a vendor’s wares. They briefly spoke and hurried off downTier. Ebb moved through the crowd with an ease that seemed to worry the more wary around him.
He only picked one purse in the process. He had stolen it from someone minutes before and should have known better that to impinge on the Pack’s territory, whether Gallen was still in charge or not… He passed the robbed man and… returned it to him all unnoticed.
Rob them’s that deserved it, was Ruke’s new credo. Ebb still didn’t quite know why he felt better as he continued his pursuit. Perhaps it was the festive mood.
#
The pair saw the troll as the crowds parted. They took note of the white horse the boy
led. All their plans changed in an instant. One moved left, the other right, each holding a dark charm in their hands.
Nessa found it difficult to judge danger with so many gawking at them.
“Are they part of the festival?” a woman in the crowd asked.
“I… I don’t think so.”
Greth laughed, “What’s a festival without a troll or two?”
“He really is a troll.”
Greth drew his short blade, which anyone else would have called a sword. The metal did not shine. “Perhaps, you would like to see me dance?”
“Don’t frighten them,” Casber said.
“Can’t help that, lad,” he said, smiling.
The unicorn suddenly sniffed the air, sensing magery.
#
Ebb followed his primary target as the man raised something to his mouth. Darkness welled forth on his breath. Ebb frowned, seeing the darkness move behind him and… joined his shadow on the crowded torchlit street. The shadow moved through the crowd and whomever it touched, began making strangling sounds, then coughed.
Glancing at the troll, he heard coughing and saw another shadowed form emerge on the other side of the crowd.
The white horse reared as Ebb shouted, “The darkness is alive!”
The shadow forms stormed the horse, which kicked out. The troll cried, “Prect!” and swung his sword at the nearest form.
There was a deafening explosion that rained multicolor sparks everywhere.
It was beautiful.
The crowd, which had been retreating, turned to watch in delight.
The unicorn’s suddenly visible horn flared, striking the remaining shadow. It recoiled and Greth slashed upward. It flared, bursting into brilliant sparks.
The crowd cheered. Ebb frowned, realizing he had lost track of his quarry. He glanced back just in time to realize he was standing behind him. That’s when he was struck on the back of the head.
#
Hearing the warning shout, Nessa cursed the fact they had not yet reached the fletcher’s stall. She turned toward the call and saw the crowd begin to flee, save the youth, who was pointing at… the shadow creature.
“Get back,” Lawson cried, drawing his dagger.
Between the unicorn and Greth, the demise of the creatures created a wonderful show. Two men also hadn’t moved to flee. As the crowd applauded, one struck the youth from behind. Nessa let her dagger fly. The man fell, the blade piercing his shoulder. “Thief!” she cried.
The man reared back and fled as Casber and Yel’ane rushed to the unconscious youth. Lawson raised his hands, “Ladies and gentlemen, we shall be performing tomorrow!”
Coins were thrown, which the girls hurriedly collected. Greth glanced at the youngster. “Another mouth to feed.”
He reached down and hefted the boy. The unicorn sidled over and touched her horn to him. The boy glowed and let out a gasp.
Casber said, “Come on.”
#
“Find the Lady Esperanza!” the scryer cried, looking up from his bowl of water.
The Primus looked down from the hall’s stair. “What’s happened?”
“Dark Magery in the Seventh!” the scryer gasped. “And I thought I glimpsed…”
“Out with it!”
“Primus, I thought I saw a unicorn.”
“Send a message to General Winterhil. He’s to return to the city immediately and bring back as many Legionnaires as he can!”
#
The battle steeds suddenly paused across the city. Whether stabled on the palace grounds, behind the Cathartan embassy manse in the Seventh, or riding on patrol on the Tiered streets, they halted.
“Hey!”
“What you up to, boy?”
“Of all the ill-luck, you’s let ‘im get aways.”
The steeds suddenly looked left and right, then went back to their tasks or serving as mere rather large horses.
All save one. She lay curled up on the floor of the bridal suite. Her eyes were wide, knowing the scent of that magic. “Unicorn.”
#
“Of all the ill-luck,” he rasped as his companion came back with a healer whose sympathies were well known.
“How?” the other said.
The healer was chanting as he removed the blade, which he set before him.
The healing spell draining him, he blinked in exhaustion, “That’s Cathartan wrought… one of their throwing blades… The Cathartans are ruining all our plans.”
“The question that concerns me is why has it returned?”
“It must be the boy…”
“But the Highmage is human. He can have no dopple. He has no soul.”
Weak as the elfblood was, that didn’t prevent him from slapping his colleague’s face. “Don’t be a fool. Every mage has a soul or they couldn’t do a working… It’s all the rest of those pathetic creatures who don’t.”
#
The Cathartan guards examined the site where the impromptu show was said to have be held. “Blood,” one said kneeling on the ground.
“There was this beautiful white horse,” one of the vendors said.
“And one of the girls threw this blade which took the thief in the shoulder, he had struck a boy and was about to rob him.”
“But you said there were… trolls.”
“Men on stilts,” a bystander offered.
“Great costume,” said another.
The vendor nodded, “It was definitely a girl… there was only one other her age. The rest were a lot younger.”
“All those girls… they drew knives like the one she threw. Quite an act; looking forward to their show tomorrow.”
The Cathartans looked at each other, knowing there were no such things as trolls.
#
There was a knock at the door. The old retainer answered, then stared at the unicorn, “Uh, the mistress of the house is not in.”
The unicorn marched past him followed by… the retainer stared. “Who?”
“I’m Casber. I’m with her.”
“What?” He stared up.
The troll said, “I’m with them. Where can I set our friend, here, down?”
He pointed as children, all of them girls, and two, just barely into adolescence, followed. The shorter troll carried a heavy looking pack on his back.
Yel’ane looked around as the white horse went into a den. A plush looking rug was set in the center. The mare knelt and lay down. The old retainer shook his head, “Oats and water for her are over there.”
The girls looked around as Lawson looked at all the books lining the wall of a sitting room of sorts. “Whose house is this?”
The retainer looked at the boy as he brought over the bucket of oats. “It’s the late Highmage’s. Lady Carwina is at the palace getting married.”
“Oh, congratulations,” Lawson said, smiling.
The retainer winced.
“You brought us to the Highmage’s house?” Nessa said, glaring at Casber.
“No, she did… I guess she lives here.”
“She does, young master,” the retainer said. “May I inquire as to your name, seeing as you will be guesting here?”
“Casber du Winome.”
“Win… Oh, my. You are related to Master Balfour?”
“He’s my uncle.”
“Are you all related to Master Balfour?”
Nessa shook her head, “No, sir… Uh, might we have something to eat?”
He hesitated, “What exactly do trolls eat?”
Greth turned, “Bread would be a good start.”
“Does the boy need a healer?”
“He’s been healed,” the boy said. “He’ll just sleep for hours recuperating.”
“I will get bread and juice, cheeses, perhaps, then prepare something more…”
#
They heard a sound on the roof. The Empress set her cards down.
“It’s just Raven,” Fri’il muttered, glancing at the skylight.
Se’and met C
le’or’s gaze as Je’orj frowned and Staff changed color, showing his concern as well. Ri’ori continued to sleep soundly. Cle’or signaled to Fri’il. You need the practice more than I.
Fri'il nodded, rose from the bed and went to the window, opening the latch she climbed out and paused to listen. A gentle breeze brushed her. The crystalline anklet glimmered. Inside the suite, Staff flashed.
Staff flashed a warning detecting movement. Fri’il brushed her hand against her hair, drew one of the blades and cast.
“Erk.” The assassin slid from his perch and toppled.
Raven peered, Hmm, he was down wind.
“Since when has that stopped you?”
Shaking her head, she shimmered, changing from bird to beast. Fri’il climbed up the roof and settled next to where Raven rested. “You want to talk about it?”
The wolfen head shook, no.
“We got married.”
Raven looked away.
“We did… you did, too.”
She lowered her head.
“That bothers you?”
A little.
“Why?”
She whimpered. Not want to grow up.
“We’re the pair, aren’t we?” Fri’il said, stroking her mane. “I’ve loved him so and have given him a wonderful little girl, but does he love me?”
She brushed some tears away as Raven looked into her eyes, He loves you.
“There are these times when I know he does… he’ll look at me, touch my hand so gently, he’ll give me a sudden kiss, then he, well, he’s just Je’orj. Oh, I know he loves me. But, it’s not like he loves…” Se’and, she did not need to say aloud. Fri’il sighed, “Is that what’s bothering you? Fearing he doesn’t love you so?”
Raven shook her head, We are a pack. He is our… leader.
“Uh, I suppose he is our, um, leader… though, that kind of thing will go to a man’s head. He’s only to think himself in charge. Men can be such fools, you know.”
Canting her head, Raven was not certain Fri’il understood. “Pack must stand together to survive.”
“That’s the Cathartan way, too.”
Raven lowered her head again. Love matters not. Only loyalty and one’s place in the pack.
“I think that’s the longest sentence I’ve ever heard you, err, say.”
Thinking about it, Raven realized it was true. She put her paws over her head, knowing that fighting for her place in this pack, to rise above the others in George’s heart was going to be difficult. He thought her little better than a pup. She would have to change that and she didn’t want to betray Fri’il or the others. But he smelled so good and one day he would smell too good… The wind changed.