Hade and his small party had come from the east and stood looking over the lip of the canyon. They had been hailed by sentries who manned a small gatehouse where the road from Ormery ended. Soon, they would be allowed to descend through the gatehouse into the cliff city.
For now, they awaited the presence of the city’s watch captain and his approval. While Hade was frustrated by this delay, he understood the protocol.
Besides, he thought, it gives me a chance to take in this view.
He’d come through Vizerburg decades ago when he’d been assigned his post, but the approach had been up the White, and he’d only ever put his back to the canyon. Rubbing his sore left arm, he watched the tiny people below go about their business.
For their part, the elves seemed to be interested in the town as well. A few of the rangers were chatting with the gatehouse guards, while Chazmyr and Ethelrynne joined Hade at the edge. For a long while they said nothing.
“Remarkable,” said Chazmyr.
Hade had to smile, even as doing so caused a flash of pain from his healing lip. It had been two days since the battle at Ormery, and while the death of Sprig was still fresh, his wounds were not, and his humor was returning.
“Wait’ll you get inside, Chaz,” he said. The ranger looked at him with wonder still stamped upon his face, “The stone buildings are one thing, but the majority of the city is built into the earth.”
With that, Hade moved over to lay a guiding hand on the elf’s shoulder, while he pointed with his other hand directly down over the lip of the canyon. The soldier gripped Chazmyr’s arm to steady him as he bent to look at the structures protruding from the rock face. He stood straight and looked back at his friend, then to his princess.
“It’s like a dwarven city!” he breathed.
Ethelrynne nodded, and couldn’t help but smile at her sergeant’s enthusiasm. She was glad to see the man in a cheerful mood, even if she didn’t quite share it.
The princess still held much of the sorrow she’d felt at the loss of Sprig. While the ache wasn’t as omnipresent as it had been, she still felt wrong smiling, somehow. She turned from the gawking duo and strode toward the gatehouse.
The rangers straightened at her approach, and even the human guards seemed to find more backbone. She looked over the one who’d been their spokesman since the group had arrived.
“Sergeant, how long, exactly, will we be expected to lollygag about up here before your captain arrives?”
As she spoke, the man wore an anguished expression. She knew he had little to do with it, but she was feeling ornery and she misliked the brusque tone with which he’d originally addressed them.
“M’lady…er…Your Grace,” he fumbled with the formality, “I’m truly sorry, but Captain Rowe is inspecting cargo from Freehold. It will take him a good half hour to climb up here.”
A line appeared between her brows, “You said as much, almost an hour ago.”
The guard looked to the other elves and found no quarter. They’d been friendly enough while chatting about the woes of a soldier, but they were feeling impatient as well. The man spread his hands wide.
“If I could get him here now, I would, Princess. I’m sorry.”
She stared hard at the man for a moment, aware that she was probably giving him more of a hard time than he deserved, but feeling stubborn just the same.
Finally, she threw her gaze at her men, gathered them with a look, and stormed back toward Hade and Chazmyr. Her rangers looked suitably chagrined.
“What is it?” Hade asked as she returned. He’d been afraid that the rangers and the guards of the gatehouse would get into some sort of argument, or at worst case, a brawl. His concern showed.
Ethelrynne brushed it aside with a wave of her slender hand.
“Pah, don’t worry. I’m just annoyed,” she said. The group formed a circle out of habit.
“I’m sure they mean no insult, Princess,” Chazmyr offered, playing the diplomat. Ethelrynne stared at Hade as he spoke. The soldier sighed but returned her glare.
“I told you this might happen, didn’t I?”
She looked away, over the cliff. A gust flipped a stray golden lock in front of her face and she reached up to tuck it behind a pointed ear.
“You did,” she replied. “Are we going to have to save this town from goblins before they’ll speak to me?”
Hade blushed, “Hey, now that’s not fair.”
She returned his look, defiant, “Isn’t it? How short is the memory of men? Will we have to prove ourselves to your king too, before he’ll deign to meet with us?”
Hade refused to back down. The others began to look uncomfortable. Their princess was known to be hot-headed, but this human was anything but spineless.
“Ethelrynne…Princess, we’re in uncharted territory here. Your people may live for hundreds of years, but humans don’t.”
He rubbed his hand over his beard, searching for the right words. The princess waited.
“You ask me how short the memory of men is. It’s short, Princess, I don’t’ know what to tell you.”
He pointed over the lip of the gorge, still facing her, “These people? They’ve never seen an elf. Hell, they probably believe that your people are myths, or legends; something dreamed up to add flavor to the glory days.”
The group was silent. All the rangers studied the man, their faced implacable. Ethelrynne returned his stare. His expression softened.
“I mean, I was half-convinced that I wouldn’t find anything when I set out toward your lands…”
The moment passed and he snapped his gaze back up to the princess, his expression pleading.
“I’m asking you to have a little faith. The memory of men might be short, but…damn it…” he struggled to find the words, and looked back to the city.
Ethelrynne stepped forward suddenly, and grabbed his hand. He looked at her, surprised by the action, but held by her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her ire deflated by his earnestness.
“I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m just flustered, that’s all. I guess hanging around humans has rubbed off on me a bit.”
She squinted at him, gauging his reaction.
He looked at her for a moment, and then grinned nervously. He squeezed her hand as the rangers visibly relaxed.
“Yeah, I guess so,” he said. They stood that way for a moment, before Hade looked up and beyond her shoulder.
She turned to see a new group of men exiting the gate house.
They were lead by a tall man in mail, with a gold tabard cinched by his weapons belt. He looked to be roughly thirty years of age, with russet colored hair and a five o’clock shadow. His left hand was on the grip of a longsword.
Behind him strode four guards, and a woman in a white dress and cloak trimmed in scarlet. She had bright red hair that was pulled tightly back, and a golden pendant gleamed at the hollow of her neck. She was young, probably twenty, and her green eyes gleamed with undisguised curiosity.
The two groups faced off. Wind stirred the dust at their feet as seconds ticked away. Hade coughed and started to speak as the red-haired woman began talking at the same time. They both stopped and laughed nervously while the captain and his guards looked on.
“I’m sorry,” Hade said, and gestured for the woman to speak.
“I was just going to say hello,” she smiled. She looked over the elves and then back to Hade.
“Can they understand us?”
“We can tell what you’re saying,” Ethelrynne cut in before Hade could respond, “but I wouldn’t say we understand you.”
The comment hung. In the silence everyone could hear the leather of the captain’s glove creak as his grip tightened on the pommel of his longsword. The robed woman seemed stymied. She looked to Hade and then back to Ethelrynne, a confused look on her face. Hade cleared his throat.
Finally, the smallest of grins tugged at Ethelrynne’s lips and she softened her expression. When she saw the
look of relief on the other woman’s face, she couldn’t help but laugh. It broke the tension.
“Please, forgive me,” she said to the woman, “a bad attempt at humor. I’m still feeling my way through human customs.
“I am Ethelrynne Rivenbow, and these are my rangers.”
“A princess?” the woman responded with wide-eyes. Everyone looked at her. She blinked at them quickly and then recovered.
“You are a Rivenbow. That makes you royalty, no?” As she registered the shocked looks, she shook her head and regained some composure.
“I’m sorry,” she straitened and extended a hand, “My name is Enella Rowe. I’m a scholar and apprentice wizard. I’ve studied elfish lore for years.”
“Well I’ll be buggered,” said the captain.
It was his turn to be the target of everyone’s curious looks. He smirked as he regarded Enella.
“She’s been going on about elves and such for years. I guess I just never expected it to matter.”
He extended his sword hand to Hade, “Gallard Rowe, captain of the guard…and bewildered brother.”
Two hours later they were seated in the solar of the municipal office awaiting an audience with the baron. The luxury of the accommodations was a welcome change from the rugged conditions of the road. Hade particularly enjoyed the warm food and cool drink that had been provided to them by a small group of servants.
The rangers were engaged with the guardsmen and Captain Rowe in a discussion about the battle of Ormery. Hade felt an odd sense of pride, seeing the two groups conversing amiably. As he turned his gaze upon the princess and her new best friend, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the elf.
Enella hadn’t stopped speaking to Ethelrynne since they’d begun their descent to the canyon floor. The woman was clearly in her element, and even though much of her information was antiquated, she had a surprising number of insights into elven life. To her credit, Ethelrynne had been playing along with the good-natured interrogation.
Eventually an aide entered through an ornate wooden door. Dressed in the golden hued livery of Vizerburg’s ruling class, he was clean-shaven and bald. He waited for the chatter in the room to die down a bit before he addressed the group.
“The baron will see you now.” His voice was soft, cultured. After he spoke he held the portal and gestured for the group to enter.
The baron of Vizerburg and its surrounding area was one of the king’s nephews. Holt Van Uther shared his uncle’s aquiline features, dusty brown hair, and imposing physique. The fact that he so resembled the king was a point of pride for him, as he loved the man dearly.
His study was grand, larger than the common room of the Whetstone. Hade couldn’t help but ogle. It had been more than twenty years since he’d been in a city, and he’d never been inside a noble’s chambers.
For his part, Chazmyr was suitably amazed. The polished marble of the table was striking, until he noticed that the deep green carpet upon which they trod was cast over a floor of the same material. He marveled at how much sheer labor must have gone into the structure. The sergeant was unable to suppress a grin.
Holt stood behind a massive desk made of polished red marble, hands spread across a map he had unfurled upon its surface. He looked up as the group entered and straightened. He cast his gaze across all of them, but lingered upon the princess.
“Welcome,” he said, “I am Baron Holt Van Uther, lord of Vizerburg. I hope our awkward welcome wasn’t too trying of your patience.”
He moved gracefully around the table as he talked, and offered his hand to Ethelrynne. Glancing at Hade, she returned the gesture.
Possessing true cultured upbringing, the baron gently grasped her hand, bowed, and pressed his lips to the back of her glove. The princess managed to avoid blushing, while several of her rangers shifted uncomfortably.
“It has been far too long since we’ve seen one of the Fair Folk in our Realm, Your Majesty,” he said as he straightened. He met the gazes of her rangers and gave them a quick tilt of his head.
Ethelrynne regarded him for a moment before responding, “I agree, Lord Van Uther. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
He nodded. Seemingly satisfied that formalities had been observed, he turned to resume his place behind the table.
“Now, Corporal, tell me of this goblin advance…”
The discussion lasted well into the evening hours. They had been brought dinner in the study, which held several well-cushioned chairs. Just the same, more had to be brought in to accommodate them all. They arranged the furniture around the hearth before settling down to eat.
The meal consisted of roast beef with dark gravy, carrots, fat mushrooms, and baked potatoes. It was sturdy fare, but delicious. The group was more than happy to have a real meal, and ate with gusto.
The main course was followed-up with a mincemeat pie that Hade especially relished. Wine was sampled all around, and the mood had loosened comfortably.
The baron was a charming host. His knowledge of human-elven relations from old times was better than most, in that it consisted of more than just bedtime stories. It was plain that the Van Uther line had kept much of the history of their Realm intact.
Ethelrynne was pleased to hear reverence in the baron’s voice as he recounted tales of men and elves fighting goblins in ages past.
“It seems we may have a chance to reprise our ancestor’s roles,” he said, raising a glass to Ethelrynne and her rangers.
She smiled at him, the firelight glinting in her violet eyes. She raised her goblet in return and merely nodded.
“I hate to disrupt the mood,” Hade put in, setting his plate upon an end table, “But we still have some issues to discuss.”
“Right, of course.” The baron set aside his glass and leaned forward.
“You would like to travel to Freehold, to meet with my uncle. I think we can arrange something, although I’ll be sending a pigeon to speed the message ahead of you.”
“Speaking of speed,” Hade said, producing Osric’s ring from his pocket, “We were told that Osric’s apprentices could help expedite our journey to the capital.”
Enella leaned forward and took the ring. She turned it over in her hand and seemed thoughtful.
“I know this marking. His tower is on the other side of the river…I think my master knows him…” she seemed to realize that she was holding what could very likely be a dead man’s ring, and hurriedly handed it back to the soldier.
“In the morning, I’ll take you there. I’m not sure what his apprentices will be able to do, but Osric was well-traveled – even among wizards.”
Hade nodded. A silence grew as everyone fell into their own thoughts. All that could be heard was the crackling of the fire.
Holt cleared his throat finally, “I hope I can persuade you to be my guests tonight, here in the castle. There are plenty of rooms.”
The others stood, setting down dinnerware. The baron rang a small bell, and in came several servants to clear the dishes. Hade approached the baron.
“We are extremely grateful for your hospitality, M’lord,” he said.
Holt waved him away, “It’s nothing, really.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice, “Honestly, I never expected to see an elf in these halls, let alone six! Between the elves and the goblins, we’re living in strange times, my friend.”
Hade had to agree. He looked back at the others, and Ethelrynne caught his eye. She offered him a small smile.
For just a moment, the soldier felt his blood stirring. He returned the private gesture, and looked away as the baron moved to give instructions to his servants for their accommodations.
Soon they were settling in for the night, in lush feather beds. Each of them was given their own chamber, and Hade was thankful to be allowed to collect his thoughts for the first time in more than a week.
He’d bathed in a hot bath provided by servants, checked his wounds and found them well mended, if still scabbed, and donned a robe provid
ed by the baron. Sliding into the comfortable bed, he thought that he might just be able to get used to such luxury.
As he drifted off to sleep, he thought of everything he’d been through in the past few days. Among the images of slaughter, fire, and death, the one that he kept coming back to, even as he sank into unconsciousness, was the smallest of smiles…
Chapter 19
Calistra Emberlock stood impatiently and watched her men set up a command center in the dank cellar. Her arms crossed over her black armored chest, she made no move to help the low-ranking soldiers as they set up tables, chairs, chest, braziers, cots, and other furniture they’d use during their stay in the city.
They were deep beneath an abandoned warehouse in a run-down district of the port city, Galloway. It was humanity’s largest metropolis, and its greatest center of trade. Its crescent-shaped Bay of Eels made a naturally sheltered port that saw massive amounts of tonnage on a daily basis.
It had been little trouble to secret a force of her household guard into the city, and down into the warehouse district. The streets teamed with people, and no one batted an eyelash at the black and crimson uniforms of the Lockhaven soldiers.
Still, Calistra had been cautious. She didn’t like the idea of one of Remiel’s agents running off to tell daddy that some of the baroness’s men had been seen in the city. She had to assume that his little shadows had begun to suspect something.
She’d sent no answer to his summons, and that would be incrimination enough for the king.
“Where is Duln?” she barked. Several men started at the noise in the chamber. One of her aides stood at attention.
“M’lady, the captain is still at the market, as you ordered,” the voice was young and clear, but the echoes among the dark made it too tinny.
She huffed, “Of course he is.”
Nonplussed, the aide continued his work. The baroness merely frowned harder.
She misliked the dungeon-like quality of the place that Drejth had chosen for their deployment, and it made her antsy. She knew damn well that Wielder Duln was securing supplies at the market, but she was growing impatient. The sooner they were done with this, the better.
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