“Right,” the rogue nodded.
He quickly crossed the floor and slid the key into the lock. Moments later, the door was opened. The unicorn stood just beyond the portal; completely alone. He stepped briskly into the room before whinnying in obvious appreciation. Instantly, the door was slammed shut and locked. For a few moments, silence seemed to fill the tower. Finally, the elvish maiden spoke.
“Welcome, friend,” she said, bowing her head.
In reply, the creature tapped one of its hooves on the stone floor and whinnied again. The unicorn then bowed its head at the young knight. Darian responded in kind before scrutinizing the creature.
“Are you the unicorn I healed?” he asked.
The creature nodded in reply.
“Well,” the Telian said, “I'm glad to see you're fully recovered. I want to thank you, again, for saving my life.”
Again, the unicorn bowed its head.
The entire band then introduced themselves to the creature; communicating with him as best they could considering his rather limited range of responses. They managed to work out that he had come to keep an eye on Darian and that he felt he owed the knight a debt that could never fully be repaid. Considering the situation, the warrior decided to speak to the Telian.
“Sir Darian,” he said, “I think this could help solve one of our problems.”
“How so?” the young knight asked. “What problem?”
“Well,” the warrior began, “I didn't want to lose one of our horses, but I didn't want to just abandon the wardens here with no way to send for help. If this creature feels it owes you a debt, it may be willing to take one of the wardens back to Innalas.”
“Right,” Darian nodded. “Good idea.”
“Then, ask him.”
“Excuse me, noble unicorn,” the knight began, “Could I beg a favor?”
The creature immediately turned its attention to the Telian and whinnied gently.
“Thank you,” Darian smiled. “Would you be willing to carry one of these fine wardens back to Innalas for us?”
The creature stood perfectly still; its large eyes thoughtfully taking in the young man.
“Sir Darian,” Erana said loudly, striding quickly across the floor to take the young knight by the arm.
The pair stepped a short distance away from the unicorn before the elvish maiden spoke again.
“You don't do that, Darian!” she exclaimed under her breath.
“Do what?” he asked.
“Ask a unicorn to carry somebody,” she explained. “It's insulting. It would be like... Like asking a Telian to muck out a stable.”
“Actually, as part of our training...” he began.
“Never mind,” she interrupted, “that doesn't matter. The point is that it's rude. If nothing else, you're asking him to do someone else a favor because he feels like he owes you. Do you see what I’m saying?”
“I do!” Darian replied emphatically, before turning once again to the creature. “I'm sorry, my friend. What I mean to say is: could you serve as my mount so I could lend one of these wardens my horse?”
“No!” the elvish maiden cried.
“No?” the Telian asked.
“No,” she shook her head. “What he meant to ask you, noble sir, was whether you could deliver a message to Innalas for us.”
“Oh yes, of course,” Darian nodded. “Would you be willing to do that?”
The creature nodded its head.
“Thank you!” both the knight and the ranger replied simultaneously.
With that matter settled, the conversation quickly resumed its previous vein and, before long, the band had settled itself down in groups of twos and threes who were quietly whispering together. Three watches would stand guard during the night, each of them composed of two wardens. The knight and his companions would face a long journey and unknown dangers come the dawn. For tonight they would be able to sleep in peace.
The rogue, the ranger, and the bard settled themselves in a cozy corner to pass their few remaining waking minutes together in conversation.
“Thanks again for the necklace,” the rogue said, spinning it in front of him as he spoke. “How did you make it again?”
“Magic,” Ian yawned. “I'd have thought that was obvious.”
“Yeah,” the rogue chuckled. “That much was. I meant: Why doesn't it go out like the ones you normally make do? Oh, and where did you get the necklace?”
“I made the necklace,” Erana said, smiling at her love.
“When?”
“Today,” she replied. “You didn't notice because you and Darian were arguing about which of you is the better horseman.”
“I am,” he asserted.
“I know,” she agreed.
“So why doesn't it go out?” the rogue asked again, staring at the lovely golden light.
“It's complicated,” the dwarf said. “Can it wait until tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
“Oh, Kilren,” the elvish maiden said, “this would be a good time to ask him. Since it's just us, I mean.”
“Oh... right...” Kilren replied.
“You do want to ask him, don't you?”
“Of course I do!”
“Well then, ask me, lad,” the bard laughed. “Because, if you two are just going to sit there talking about me as if I’m not here, I'm going to go to sleep. You don't need me keeping you company for that.”
“No, no,” the rogue said. “I'm going to ask you. I mean: I've been meaning to for days now. It's just that it may seem a little silly; what with us being surrounded by danger and death and what-have-you. Then, of course, we might not all make it home. Eilian willing, we will, of course! But still, we might not. You know? And that's why we... Erana and I – that is to say. We decided that we’d better go ahead and ask. Just in case. You know? And that's why we're asking...”
“Asking what?” the dwarf smiled.
“Oh right...” Kilren replied before clearing his throat. “We were hoping... That is to say – Erana and I were hoping... I mean: you know, in the fullness of time... After we've been married... I mean: you know, after we've gotten married at our wedding...”
“Yes,” the dwarf nodded, “I thought that might be where you two got married. I always said that, if I ever did it, my marriage would take place at a wedding.”
“Well, exactly,” the rogue agreed with a nervous laugh. “Anyway, after we've gotten married... like I said, at our wedding...”
“I'm not asking this time,” Erana said, staring wide eyed and slightly open mouthed at her betrothed.
“What do you mean?” the rogue asked.
“I'm not going to ask Ian like I had to ask Darian and Gwendolyn,” she replied.
“What are you talking about?” he said defensively. “I asked both of them.”
“You did not!” she said, slightly stunned by his self-denial.
“Yes, I did!” he replied. “Let's go ask Darian!”
“Well, children,” the bard chuckled, “my answer is yes to whatever it is. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get some sleep.”
“Oh no!” Kilren said. “Oh no! I'm going to ask you right now! I mean right this instant!”
“Alright. Go ahead.”
“Good!” the rogue replied, once again clearing his throat. “What we wanted to know, Ian, was whether or not...”
“After you two get married at your wedding,” the bard interrupted.
“Exactly!” the young man nodded. “After the fullness of time... Once nature has run its course… and Erana and I have... become... parents... of a baby... we were hoping you would kind of be the... the child's... or even... children's... maybe... godfather...”
“Aye,” the bard replied with a wide smile on his face. “That, I would. You know, I've certainly had my share of glory in this life. However, I think you've just bestowed the greatest honor on me that I've ever had. So, you both have my thanks.”
“Thank you, Ian,” Erana sai
d, her eyes on those of the dwarf. “It really means a lot to us.”
“It does,” Kilren agreed. “You know, Ian, ever since Darian first spotted you at The Whistling Raven... and I don't think I've ever told you this... but, since that very first moment he pointed you out to me, I've always sort of thought of you as my very own little old man.”
“Thank you,” the bard chuckled. “And, I must confess that the first time I saw you, I thought you were a fool. However, first impressions aren't always correct... Of course, it's amazing how often they are... Goodnight, my friends.”
The trio fell very happily and very quickly into the arms of sleep. After a very peaceful night the dawn broke to find the band already preparing for their departure. Ian had written a very detailed message the night before and this was placed in a small leather bag hanging from the neck of the unicorn. Before the light had managed to chase the shadows from the forest, the noble creature was heading east while the party headed west.
The knight and the rogue led the column; one of them ever watchful for hidden enemies with the other keeping him company. A short distance behind them, the warrior rode; his bride and the bard on each side of him. The ranger and the young sorceress made up the rear guard while Rragor ran from one end of the group to the other as various sights, sounds, and smells attracted his attention in succession.
“You know, Captain,” Ian said, breaking the relative silence. “I've seriously been considering the possible restoration of Solarin.”
“I'm glad,” the warrior nodded. “Do you still think it's possible?”
“Oh yes,” the dwarf replied. “I don't think there's any real question of that. Now, whether it's practical, is another matter entirely.”
“What are your thoughts there?” the captain asked.
“My main thought is that Lord Andor certainly isn't a fool,” Ian replied.
“No,” the warrior agreed, “he's not.”
“So, doubtlessly, he sees some reasonable road to restoration, as it were,” the bard observed. “That being the case, I decided to try to consider it from his point of view.”
“I see what you mean,” Tealor nodded.
“Well, that train of thought led me to some interesting and, until recently, unconsidered facts.”
“Such as?”
“Do you remember the name of your liege lord?” the bard asked, turning his eyes to the captain.
“Yes,” the warrior replied, “of course I do. Before the war, my father's liege was Sir Kenfas.”
“That's absolutely right,” the dwarf said. “You may also remember that he had a son.”
“He did,” the captain agreed. “I seem to remember that he was roughly my age, or perhaps a little younger. So, he didn't fight in the war. At least, I don't believe he did.”
“He did once,” the bard corrected, “His father died in that battle. After that, his mother forbade him to fight. Either way, do you remember the son's name?”
“No,” the warrior said, shaking his head, “I can't say that I do.”
“It was, or rather, is Faelor,” the bard replied. “I think that's a name you recognize.”
“You mean...” the captain began before pausing for a moment. “You mean Faelor? Gwendolyn's father, Faelor?”
“The one and only,” Ian smiled. “If the kingdom of Solarin hadn't fallen, your family would serve Sir Faelor.”
“I had no idea,” the warrior said.
“Nor did I,” the bard replied. “In fact, I just realized it this morning. However, you can be certain that Lord Andor knows. Sir Faelor is just one of the Solarin nobles that survived the war and went on with their lives without a title.”
“That's a very valid point,” the warrior replied. “Faelor is a knight of Solarin as long as the king still lives.”
“Absolutely,” the bard agreed. “I feel certain that plays into Lord Andor's plans somehow. One other interesting fact is that, since her father is still a knight, Gwendolyn is – in all reality – a lady.”
“Have you told her yet?” the captain asked.
“No,” the bard smiled. “I thought I'd let you tell her. It's something she's been yearning for most of her life, I think. As you're one of her grandfather's former vassals, I thought you'd want to share the good news.”
“Absolutely,” Tealor said. “It's incredible when you think about it. What are the odds of that?”
“Oh,” the bard replied, “it's not all that incredible. Both your families lived on the border before the war and you both continued to do so afterwards. I'm just surprised that it took me this long to put it together.”
“Well, I'm glad you did,” the captain smiled. “Sarena, my love, should we go tell the maiden that she really is the lady she's always wanted to be?”
“I would love to, my champion,” the sorceress replied, “Sharing good news is always very pleasant.”
The couple slowed their mounts until the maidens caught up to them.
“Lady Gwendolyn,” the warrior began smiling at the young sorceress, “I have news that just might interest you.”
“I might be Lady Gwendolyn one day,” the maiden laughed. “But I'm not yet. Not until after Solarin's restored or I find some other way of becoming a lady.”
“Well, my dear,” the sorceress said, smiling at her student, “as we serve Lord Andor and Lord Andor serves Solarin, you're very much Lady Gwendolyn in our eyes.”
“I suppose I see what you mean,” she replied. “However, it's not exactly official, is it?”
“I disagree,” Tealor replied, shaking his head. “I hadn't really thought about it until Ian brought it up just minutes ago, but the fact is that we all live under Solarin law. That's why Andor is Lord Andor and Darian is Sir Darian and even I am Captain Tealor. We may be subjects without a kingdom, but that doesn't make our claims or our titles any less real, does it?”
“No,” Gwendolyn agreed with a wide grin spreading across her face. “No, you're certainly right about that.”
“That being the case,” the warrior continued, “you truly are Lady Gwendolyn and your father is Sir Faelor. And, what you may find even more interesting, is that I was one of your grandfather's vassals. I just never realized you were his granddaughter until today.”
“I mentioned him to Sarena just weeks ago,” the maiden replied.
“Yes, dear,” the sorceress nodded, “but the name didn't mean anything to me. After all, I was ten when your grandfather was killed and he wasn't my family's liege lord.”
“Either way,” the captain said, “the point is that you are a lady. And, what's much more important – at least in my mind – is that you act like one.”
“Thank you,” the maiden replied. “It's very good of you to say. I truly appreciate your devotion, Captain.”
“I'm glad you do,” the warrior laughed. “I just thought it was interesting and that you'd like to know.”
“Well,” she smiled, “you were right.”
While the other party members were discussing Solarin's past and possible future, the rogue and the knight were having their own conversation which coincidentally strayed onto a similar topic.
“So, I was thinking, Sir Darian” the rogue said “You know, about the future.”
“Sir Darian again?” the knight replied.
“Yeah,” Kilren nodded. “In this context, Sir Darian fits.”
“Alright,” the young Telian replied, “What's the context?”
“It's just that me and Erana have been talking a lot,” the rogue began, “about the future and her father and what-have-you.”
“Right, right.”
“He seems to think I'm not sturdy, if you know what I mean.”
“Sorry, but I have no idea what you mean.”
“You know what?” Kilren replied, turning his face to his friend. “I believe you. What I mean, Darian, is that I don't exactly look like great son-in-law material, do I?”
“Oh, I don't know...” the knight began.
“Well, I do!” Kilren interrupted. “And, I don't!”
“You do and you don't?”
“Eilian, give me strength,” the rogue said, rolling his eyes. “What I'm saying, Darian, is that I know I don't look like much of a husband. I'm not asking you; I'm telling you!”
“Alright,” the knight replied. “Well, what do you want me to do about it?”
“Well, yes,” the rogue began. “That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. To begin with, you really have to look at it from Lord Erandal's point of view.”
“Who?”
“Lord Erandal!” Kilren replied, “Erana's father! Please try to keep up for five minutes at a time.”
“I'll certainly try.”
“Thank you!” the rogue said before continuing. “Now, from his point of view, I just don't seem like a perfect prospective husband.”
“Why's that?”
“Well, let's start with my... checkered past... I guess we'll call it.”
“That's in the past. It's best forgotten.”
“Quite so,” Kilren agreed. “Though, fathers don't tend to be particularly forgetful about such things. Especially when it's only been a few weeks since my last little indiscretion.”
“What indiscretion?”
“Trying to rob you!” the rogue exclaimed. “I mean: I really know that I really was wrong and that I really am sorry for it; but he can't be sure of that. Trying to rob a Telian doesn't exactly say to a father Hey! This guy would make a great husband! does it?”
“I can see your point there,” the knight replied, unable to stop himself from laughing. “But, you've proven your change of heart to me and to Andor. That ought to mean something to him.”
“You're right,” the rogue nodded. “Actually, I'm glad you mentioned that because you two could really help me with another part of the problem.”
“What's that?”
“It's like I was saying,” the rogue replied. “I don't seem sturdy.”
“I still don't know what you mean.”
“Sturdy, Darian!” the rogue said, throwing his hand out before him. “A good husband is reliable, dependable and a lot of other things that end in able. A good husband is sturdy. Kind of like a tree.”
“You think a tree would make a good husband?”
The Beasts of Areon (The Chronicles of Areon Book 2) Page 25