Fire and Fantasy: a Limited Edition Collection of Epic and Urban Fantasy

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Fire and Fantasy: a Limited Edition Collection of Epic and Urban Fantasy Page 339

by CK Dawn


  “You saved us all. The wind, the rain, the forest fire died before it reached us. That was you, wasn't it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “The winds were too strong. If I hadn't intervened you would have all died. I couldn't watch you all die for nothing.”

  “But how did you do that? How did you do this?” Marcus asked pointing to the alleyway around him.

  “That is much harder to explain.”

  “Try me.” Marcus implored, enchanted by the woman before him.

  “It is simply who I am. That's enough about me for the moment Marcus. You will want to be away from this place swiftly. I have witnessed Khazim's handiwork before. He will be none too gentle when he learns what has transpired here. You need to be back inside the safety of the Palace walls when he does.”

  “When the King's Guard learn of this, Khazim's life will be forfeit,” Marcus assured her. “An attempt on the life of a member of a Great House—it is unforgivable. It goes without saying that they will not look kindly on their newest recruit being attacked, either—

  “That might be, Marcus, but you must first make it back alive,” Elaina insisted, cutting him off.

  “What of Dariyen? I won't leave him here,” Marcus replied, equally insistent.

  “He's weak from losing so much blood, and a full recovery will still take some time, but when he wakes he'll be strong enough to walk, at least with your help.” Elaina got up and turned to leave.

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?” Elaina replied.

  “Where are you going?” When the woman didn't reply Marcus pressed, “Come with us.”

  “To the Palace?” Elaina asked. “I don't belong there.”

  “Nonsense,” Marcus replied firmly. “There is a feast today, you don't want to miss it.”

  Elaina hesitated and, drawing courage from her hesitation, Marcus pressed on. “You have saved my life twice now. A warm meal is the least I can do.”

  Elaina relented. “Very well. I guess I could stay, but just for tonight.” Elaina knew she had become too preoccupied with Valaar of late and had begun to neglect her role as Guardian.

  “Then it's settled. You'll not regret it—the Midsommer's feast is a spectacle to behold.”

  Reaching down, Marcus grabbed Dariyen by the belt, and draping Dariyen's arm over his shoulder, he hoisted his still-unconscious friend to his feet.

  “If you can carry him, I'll ensure no one else gets in our way.” Elaina promised.

  Marcus nodded and followed the bewitching woman as she led the way out of the alleyway and back onto the cliff road.

  Citizens gave the blood-spattered party a wide berth and the unlikely trio made their way back to the Palace without further incident. When they reached the Palace they were swarmed by the King's Guard, and when they had scarcely entered the Hall they were set upon by Ajers, the Palace Chamberlain.

  “Where have you two been? Were my instructions not clear enough? You were to remain in the Great Hall until such time as the preparations were complete. Now your clothes have been delivered to your rooms but I find you have been gallivanting across the city. The Gods only know what you were up to—now you are back, covered in filth. What do you have to say for yourself?” Ajers stepped closer and examined them more closely. “Marcus, what have you done with the Champion? Is he drunk?” The chamberlain fussed about Dariyen, who was barely conscious and supported almost entirely by the struggling heir to the house of Listar. “It just won't do, and what is this he's covered in?” Ajers demanded as he fussed about.

  “Blood.” Marcus answered. “Mostly his, though some of it was donated by some thugs at the Docks.”

  “The Docks?” Ajers exclaimed, recoiling as if he'd been stung. “This won't do at all.” The chamberlain stepped back to keep his distance from the group who stood before him. Ajers was notoriously fastidious, his appearance immaculate at all times. Not a strand of hair was out of place; his boots shone with a mirror luster. His attention to detail was one of the foremost reasons he had been assigned to his post. He also had an almost paranoid fear of the city beyond the confines of the Palace.

  The chamberlain drew a bell from his belt and rang it vigorously. Almost immediately a cluster of Palace staff appeared. “Take this one upstairs and see that he is cleaned up and presentable for the banquet. He'll need a bath—it just won't do to be found in polite company smelling like that.” The staff descended and relieved Marcus of the weight of the injured Champion before unceremoniously carrying him out of the room.

  “And you, young man. I would expect better of you. This isn't your first trip to the Palace now, is it?” Ajers asked condescendingly.

  “That's enough, Ajers,” a firm voice called from the entryway. “That's my son you are speaking to, not a member of your staff. You will accord him the respect due to one of his station, after all. He will one day be the head of a Great House. Am I understood?” Amarisa, Lady of the Listarii swept gracefully into the room.

  “My lady,” Ajers answered, bowing deeply, embarrassed to have been caught in such a grievous breach of etiquette. “I apologize most earnestly—no disrespect was meant. You know I have nothing but the utmost respect for you and your house. Your late husband was a great man and I counted him a dear friend. I would never wish to offend you, nor your son. Forgive me. The preparations have me in a most frenzied state.”

  “Forgiven, Ajers, of course. Your heart as always is ever in the right place, but you attend to the feast, and leave the matter of chastising my son to me. I assure you he will not escape unpunished . . .” The lady labored the final words deliberately, leaving no misapprehensions in the chamberlain’s mind.

  “As you wish, my lady. I will return to my preparations at once. If you have any needs whatsoever, please don't hesitate to send for me. Jacques will be in the hall if you need anything at all.” The chamberlain affected another impossibly low bow and hurried from the room. As soon as the door closed, his barked orders could be heard as he swept through the hall unleashing a hail of instructions on the Palace staff.

  Marcus looked at his mother. “Look, Mother, I can explain.”

  “Explain what, exactly, Marcus? How you were wandering about in the city without a guard, or the fact that you ignored Ajers’s directions? Or is it why you've returned covered in blood with this street woman?”

  “A street what?” Elaina demanded angrily.

  “Don't speak in my presence, child,” Amarisa answered firmly. “I am talking to my son. I'll get to you later.”

  Elaina paid her no heed. Bearing down on the Lady of the Listarii, she spoke swiftly. “Do not call me a child, either. Among my people I've been considered of age since before you were a gleam in your father's eye.”

  Both Marcus and Amarisa looked in confusion on the woman before them.

  Continuing, Elaina's voice took on a sharp edge. “I can excuse your ignorance but I will not continue to bear such disrespect when it is your gratitude that I deserve. Twice now I've saved your son's life. That number pales in comparison to the number of times I've interceded on your behalf, or that of your people. Do not continue to insult me so, or you will find that next time you call for me in desperation, I will not be there.”

  The Lady Listar raised an eyebrow as she endured the tongue lashing. When the indignant young woman in the blue dress had finished her tirade. Amarisa took on a very different tone. “Marcus, take yourself to your quarters and clean yourself up. I need to have a chat with your new friend.”

  “But mother—”

  “Don't ‘but mother me’—do as you’re told. We will speak further when you have done so.”

  Marcus reluctantly headed for the door. Opening it, he turned to Elaina and mouthed the words, “I'm sorry.”

  “Go!” Amarisa commanded. “She will be here when you return.” At that the young Marcus took heart and departed.

  When the door closed Amarisa turned on Elaina. “Who are you, and wha
t are you doing here with my son?”

  “Like I said before, I saved his life.” Elaina replied.

  “Yes you did, but how and why? You also haven't answered my first question. Who are you?” Amarisa asked.

  “I am Elaina.”

  “Elaina who?” Amarisa interrogated.

  “Just Elaina. My people have never put the same stock in names as yours do.”

  “Who are your people? From the look of you I would say Mizumura—the dark hair and your skin make it the most likely choice.”

  Elaina laughed. “Perhaps, but incorrect nevertheless. My home is much further abroad.”

  “Across the Boundless Sea?” Amarisa continued patiently.

  “Across the Sea of Stars,” Elaina responded cryptically and was rewarded with a confused expression. “Even if you understood, suffice it to say you would not believe me. So why bother? I don't need to prove myself to you.”

  “You do, if you wish to continue spending time with my son.” Amarisa asserted.

  Elaina recoiled and relented—she could understand the woman's desire to protect her son. “What do you wish to know?”

  “As I said before, how and why?”

  “How and why, what?” Elaina asked.

  “You show up here covered in blood. You say you saved my son's life. How and why?”

  “I don't see how it matters,” Elaina replied.

  “On the contrary, it is all that matters, Elaina. One may do the right thing for the wrong reason. Or the right thing for the wrong reason. That boy is all I have left in the world. I would do anything to assure his safety. How and why did you help him?”

  “Because he is different,” Elaina replied. “There is a goodness in him. I couldn't watch him die.”

  “How did you do it?” Amarisa asked. “Are you a warrior?”

  Elaina held her hands apart in the air before her. Channeling the power that coursed within her, Elaina conjured the same energy she had manifested earlier in the alleyway. The bolt of lightning exploded out of her left hand, arcing to her right, where it dissipated as she absorbed its energy once more, watching Amarisa the entire time. The Matron of the Listarii was spellbound.

  “That is how. There were almost a dozen miscreants in the alleyway when I arrived. Dariyen was dying and Marcus was soon to follow. I intervened. After the first five died the others fled.”

  Amarisa nodded slowly as she absorbed every word. After a moment of quiet reflection she looked at Elaina intently.

  “Do you love him?”

  “Pardon me?” Elaina stammered nervously.

  “I asked, do you love him? My son, Marcus. Do you love him?”

  “I don't know,” Elaina answered a little embarrassed.

  “How can you not know? By your own admission you killed five men to save his life. How can you not know?”

  “Six, and I don't know because I have never been in love before,” Elaina responded quietly. The words bothered her as soon as she realized the sad truth of them.

  “You are honest, at least, and that is good enough for me. At least for the moment. I would suggest you have a better answer for Marcus when the time comes. Now come. We have much to do.”

  “What do you mean?” Elaina asked.

  “My dear, there is going to be a feast. If you are to accompany Marcus, you cannot do so like this. It won't do at all. You've met Ajers—the poor man will die if you show up dressed like that.”

  “I don't have anything else to wear.” Elaina protested.

  “Ah then it's a good thing that we are in a palace, then isn't it?” the lady replied. Turning to the door she called loudly, “Jacques, come in. We have someone who urgently needs your attention.”

  As the door opened Amarisa threw her arm around Elaina and escorted her to the door. “Come dear, we have a great deal to discuss.”

  Six

  Marcus fidgeted nervously while he waited to be admitted to the Great Hall. He had not seen his mother, nor Elaina, since he had been dispatched to get ready for the evening's festivities. When he returned neither of the women was present. I'm not sure whether that is a good sign or bad one, Marcus thought. His mother had always been protective of him. When his father had died those protective tendencies had intensified; sometimes it felt reassuring but at other times it was smothering.

  Elaina was captivating, but it wasn't her appearance that drew Marcus in—it washer bearing. Buried beneath what the eye could see was an inner strength and sense of purpose that Marcus found alluring. The woman possessed a natural beauty, not the heavily-powdered facade of the women of King's Court. Elaina was not another dainty court flower seeking to increase her station; she was self assured and confident. He had never seen anyone stand up to his mother like Elaina had, he thought with a smile. She is fearless.

  Marcus realized just how little he truly knew about Elaina. She had remained silent for most of the journey back to the Palace and what little she said only added to the mystery. The Sea of Stars? I've never heard of such a place. The only stars he knew of were those he had gazed on in the night sky.

  Beyond where she came from was the mystery of her age. She looked no older than Marcus but her comments indicated she was much older than he would have thought. How was it possible that she might be older than Amarisa and yet look his own age? If her comments were true, the years had been kind to her. Perhaps it's a side effect of the magic. Marcus recalled the tremendous power she had manifested in the darkened alley of the Docks district. If he had not been there himself, he would not have believed it possible for a person to possess such power. Marcus had heard tales of witches and wizards, beings of great power, but he had never met one before. Such people were not found on Valaar.

  And she had saved Greensbrook from the fire—yet more questions in Marcus's young mind. Why did she do it? She exhibited great compassion for people she didn't even know.

  The people of Greensbrook, Dariyen in the alley. How many lives has she saved? And why does she do it? Marcus heard the banquet beginning in the Great Hall. Normally there is nothing he would like to do more than feast and make merry with his friends, but with more questions than answers he found himself wishing for a quieter opportunity to speak with the enigmatic Elaina.

  Hearing footsteps echo down the corridor, Marcus turned to see two women approaching. The first he recognized instantly as his mother, wearing an elegant black gown cut in the current fashion of the ladies of King's Court. The Lady Listar's calculated choice of attire would serve to remind those in attendance that while Listarii may be the furthest point from the capital, the lady of the house was far from out of touch with the comings and goings in the court.

  It took Marcus a moment to realize the woman at her side was Elaina. Gone was the bloody blue dress—now she wore a dress of shimmering silver that swayed as she walked. Her long dark hair was pulled up in dizzying array of curls, all fixed in place with hair pins set with precious stones. Around her neck was a set of pearls, no doubt his mother’s, cultivated in the oceans around Listar—a prized commodity in other parts of the island. The string around Elaina's neck was worth more than a small town. Few women in Valaar possessed such wealth.

  Whatever had transpired between the two women, it appeared they had resolved their differences. They approached and Marcus found himself at a loss for words. “I'm glad to see you found a change of clothes with less blood on them, son.” Amarisa greeted Marcus with an embrace. As Marcus went to pull away, Amarisa held him firm. She whispered quietly so that she could not be overheard. “She is different, Marcus. Whatever you do, do not do anything foolish—think with your head . . . do you understand me?”

  When Marcus nodded she released him. “Excellent. Now Marcus, don't leave a woman waiting. Take her by the arm and tell her how she looks.”

  The motherly instruction caused Marcus to flush with embarrassment but he happily raised his arm and offered it to Elaina.

  Elaina smiled as she took the offered arm. When nothing was fort
hcoming Elaina craned her head expectantly and prodded. “Well . . . ?”

  “I cannot.” Marcus choked out.

  “Why not?” Elaina replied, a little hurt.

  “I'm afraid the mere sight of you has robbed me of both my breath and my wits. Forgive me.”

  “Forgiven,” Elaina replied, beaming at the compliment. Gesturing at Marcus's elaborate court attire, she continued: “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

  “I don't know about that. Fortunately, no one will be looking at me Their eyes will be firmly fixed on you”.

  The oak doors swung open and a herald announced their entrance. “Lady Amarisa of the Listarii, accompanied by her son Marcus and his companion Elaina. As you are all no doubt aware, Marcus placed second in the Midsommer's Tournament.

  There was a healthy applause as the three entered the room, but the applause gave way to whispered conversations as the attendees of the banquet spotted Elaina. The woman was previously unknown and it was a surprise to see her alongside the heir to the house of Listar. Her entrance alongside Marcus and Amarisa was a powerful statement, as the Listarii Matriarch's favor was not easily won.

  Marcus led Elaina to the head table and drew out her chair for her. With Elaina seated, Marcus hurried around the table to his seat opposite her, beside a very baffled Dariyen. The Lady Amarisa swept to her place near the head of the table, and as she approached, Alford rose from his seat to draw out her seat for her. Amarisa smiled. “Oh Alford, you needn't do that. I'm perfectly capable of seating myself should the need arise.”

  “While I am most certain you are capable, my lady,” Alford replied gently, “I do it not out of your need, but out of respect. I have no doubt were your husband still here and I not, that he would do the same for my dear wife. Such was the man he was, and he will not soon be forgotten, not at this table.”

  The kind words struck a chord within the matriarch of the Listarii and emotions threatened to break her steely countenance as she sat down. Amarisa nodded her appreciation. Eager to divert attention away from herself, Amarisa signaled to the musicians to resume their play. The quartet sprang to life and soon a lively jig rolled through the Great Hall.

 

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