The main forces of the armies were encamped just outside the walls, while the elves tried to figure out how they were going to shelter and feed so many. The supply trains would do that for a while, but no one knew for sure how long they’d be there and it was always best to plan for the worst.
He had wanted to be present when the Lancaster and Griedlok armies approached the outer wall, but Erik had insisted that his place was here with the rest of his knights. Pendoran stood on his right, the King on his left. On a step behind their men stood Willow and Amysta, as well as a fair-haired elf he’d never met with a hand on Pendoran’s shoulder. He didn’t know the man was married.
Then again, what did he really know about any of them? Or they of him?
He could hear the cheers of the assembled populace and knew that the knights had reentered the city. His heart thundered in his chest; the moment of their arrival was at hand. Banners with the Forlorn crest and that of the Knights of the Realm whipped in the wind; almost as if it had increased by the excitement of the cheering crowd. He felt Willow’s hand fall on his own shoulder and he smiled with the comfort that brought. It wasn’t enough to slow the beating of his heart, but it took the edge off his nerves.
The sound of the crowds grew louder as they welcomed their knights home and he felt Pendoran’s feet shift by his side. The commander had only so much strength at the moment and he knew that the elf’s force of will was the only thing still keeping the man on his feet. A squire hung close by his side, ready to catch him if needed, but by the stern look on Pendoran’s face, he knew the elf would rather die before letting that happen.
Mounted knights rode into view and he couldn’t help but smile along with the rest of the assembled elves around him. The generals stood at attention and Pendoran raised his hand in greeting to the two riders at the front of the formation. They were clearly knights and he guessed by the descriptions he’d been given that the figure on the left was Tar Reiz. The elf at his side wore similar armor, but looked more damaged from multiple battles than his companion’s. He looked a bit like the druid that he had been working with and he realized that this must be the boy’s father, Uriens.
They came to a stop at the base of the steps and turned their horses to watch the rest of their men file past in the direction of the Knight’s Hall. Erik smiled at each of the faces that turned his way and raised his hand several times to acknowledge his gratitude for their return home. As the last of the knights disappeared down the winding road south, Tar Reiz and Uriens walked up the steps and stopped just below where their King stood.
“Welcome home,” Erik told the elves, who each bowed in respect for their sovereign.
“It’s good to be back,” Tar Reiz acknowledged after a moment. “I’ve got a full report ready for whenever you want it.”
Uriens shifted a bit uneasily at the knight’s side. “I’m sure that can wait til tomorrow morning.”
Erik nodded. “I want to know every detail and unfortunately, tonight I’ll be too wrapped up to give it my full attention.”
As if to emphasize the point, the cheering once more got louder. Five individuals rode side by side, their retainers and bodyguards marching proudly on their flank; eyes constantly scanning the crowd for perceived threats. Four of them were on horses; the last on a very large feline that supported a round armored dwarf upon its back.
Tar Reiz looked like he wanted to go on, but Pendoran motioned for him to come stand by his side. He did so, but reluctantly. A whispered conversation began between the two elves, but Tristan tuned it out. Uriens had gone to stand next to his commander, General Jade, and his view of the new arrivals became unobstructed.
John was fully armored and riding with his back straight, his face devoid of emotion, as he took in the group awaiting his arrival. His brother’s eyes passed over him but did not appear to show any recognition of what he was seeing. Riding on John’s left were Windel and Bordin, and the older elf’s face lit up when his gaze fell upon Willow. Serix was on the right between John and Noelani, and when the cold eyes of the mage found his, he knew there was no doubt that the man knew exactly who he was.
Bordin’s eyes followed the hand lying on his shoulder and when the elf finally met his gaze, he saw the rising of the eyebrows and drop of the jaw. He had time to look at himself now and he knew that it was Constantine the older elf was now seeing reflected in his face. The elf nudged Windel riding by his side and nodded Tristan’s way. The Guardian had spent a lot of time watching over him and though the young elf tried to hide his own amazement; he failed horribly at it.
The riders halted their approach and one after another slid from their horses. Bordin, John, and Noelani took the last remaining steps towards the stairs of the palace, but Erik interrupted their advance by stepping down to meet them instead. With an arm extended, he shook hands with John, a large smile upon the elf’s face.
“Thank you for coming, I know you’re taking a big chance after everything you just went through. It means a lot that you came anyway,” Erik told John, releasing the man and shaking Bordin’s hand next. “Glad to see you again, wish it were for different reasons.”
Bordin’s eyes hadn’t left Willow or Tristan and the elder King nodded his head absently to acknowledge the King’s comments. He shifted uneasily under Bordin’s gaze and Willow’s fingers tapped his shoulder as if to command him to calm down.
Erik looked down at the dwarven warrior glaring up at him and he bent his knees to extend his hand to the grim soldier. “It’s been a long time since a dwarf has walked these palace walls, let’s hope it’s not the last.”
Noelani gripped the King’s hand and gave it a tight squeeze. “Hiner ye got some grog in thaur, cuz I’m aw it laddie. Bin supplyin' thes lot fur longer than Ah thooght I’d be.”
Erik chuckled. “Believe it or not, I think we do. We’ll break open as much ale, Grog, and wine caskets as needed and drink ourselves under the tables.”
“Aye, an elf micht be doon thaur, but thes dwarf will still be skitin' laddie,” Noelani countered with a large grin.
“Well, at least we’ll see eye to eye,” Pendoran remarked and the dwarven general burst into fresh laughter.
As all of this was going on, he had kept his eyes glued to those conversing and suddenly felt a pair of eyes focused on him. Turning his head, he met John’s gaze; his brother had recognized him at last. His brother’s eyes shifted to Willow, then back to him, following the frame of his body from head to toe, then resting on his eyes once more. With a firm set of his mouth, he shook his head and Tristan could see that this was going to be a long-winded conversation.
“Later,” he mouthed and reluctantly John nodded in response.
“I would like to introduce Windel, my chief aide,” John announced, catching him off guard. So, that’s why the elf was riding by John’s side instead of taking his place with the rest of the Guardians. He had noticed the change in clothing, but hadn’t considered what it meant until just now.
“Didn’t your father used to be one of my military advisors?” Erik asked the man and he watched as Windel nodded in return. “He was a good man, I was sorry to lose him.”
Windel bowed his head. “Thank you, Sire.”
John motioned to the dark robed figure by his side. “And this is Serix, my High Magister.”
His mind was reeling; since when did Lancaster have a magister? He looked to the mage and watched as Serix bowed his head out of respect and accepted Erik’s offered hand.
“You are most welcome here. Come, your rooms within the palace have been prepared. Feel free to change out of your armor and bathe. My cooks are already underway and we should be ready to eat within the hour. I’m sure it’ll beat the field rations you’ve been eating on your way here,” Erik offered and the guests all bowed their heads and began following the King up the stairs.
Willow would not wait any longer, she stepped over to her father and threw herself into his arms. “Daddy!”
Bordin almost s
tumbled but he recovered quickly as he embraced his daughter. Then Tristan saw a change come across the elder elf’s face as he realized that something was pushing against his own stout stomach.
“Oh shit,” he mumbled under his breath. He had been so caught up with John that he hadn’t thought of what might happen when the Elven King found out that Willow was pregnant. He was suddenly glad he had his shield strapped to his arm, as it looked like he was about to have to use it.
II
Tristan stood on the balcony of his chambers, his head throbbing from the tongue lashings he’d received and the booze. Her father was not happy at all that she was pregnant, especially since they weren’t married yet, and even the news that it was already underway and just waiting on him to arrive did nothing to soothe the man. They were going to be married in two days and the baby’s birth was at least another week off. They had time, he had argued, but that didn’t matter; Bordin was pissed.
Willow had brought a bottle of wine back with them to their room and he watched as she took a sip from her glass. He raised an eyebrow at her, but she waved him off. “A little won’t hurt her but my increased heart rate and blood pressure might.”
He shook his head and laughed. “I don’t think there’s wine enough in the world to slow my heart rate right now.”
“He’s just looking out for his little girl. What did you expect him to do?” she asked softly as she came to stand by his side.
He let out a sigh. “I don’t know. Understand that we’ve been through a lot? I mean look at me, I’m literally not the man he last met. Not anymore.”
“You get too wrapped up in your appearance. Stop worrying about that. Your body might have changed, but what’s in here hasn’t,” she purred as she tapped his chest with her fingers. Then they slid down his stomach and rested against his crotch. “And I’m beginning to like this new you.”
He chuckled. “I bet you are.”
Her fingers slid across him playfully. “It’s been a few days, we could always—”
There was a loud knock on their door and Derek poked his head through. Willow’s hand immediately dropped away, but not fast enough and the youth’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Sir, your brother is here to see you.”
Willow moaned. “I guess it’s time for round two.”
A loud roar erupted overhead and Tristan turned in time to see Wyrddlin soar past. The dragon must have needed some exercise. He’d been cooped up most of the time since they’d gotten here and though he’d seen him in his Human guise, it must have been a relief to once more take to the sky.
“Is that a—?” John began, coming to stand by his side.
“Dragon?” he offered and watched as his brother’s eyes followed the silver dragon as it soared overhead. The look of amazement on the man’s face gave him a human touch that had been missing upon their arrival and he realized that he had no real reason to be afraid; this was his brother standing next to him. “How have you been?”
“Busy, you?” John asked, watching as Wyrddlin flew along the edge of the city walls in the distance.
He chuckled. “Same. Can’t tell you how much I miss being back at home reading one of my books in my old room. Haven’t had a moment’s peace since I left.”
“You could always come back home,” John offered, but even as it was voiced, he could see in his brother’s eyes that even he didn’t believe that.
He sighed with regret. “You know I can’t. I’m not done yet. And even when I am, it won’t be Lancaster I’ll be returning too. That isn’t my home anymore.”
“It’ll always be your home,” John told him firmly, then turned his gaze from the dragon to look him straight in the eyes. Tristan felt the oddest sensation come over him; it was making him dizzy. Never before had they stood eye to eye; not even when they were young boys. His older brother had always had at least a foot on him, until now.
John suddenly laughed. “I can see it in your face, it’s throwing me off balance as well. What the hell happened to you? It’s only been what, three weeks?”
He nodded, then his smile dropped away. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when our father died.”
It was out, and now that it was, he found himself ready to flinch in case John swung at him. To his surprise, John merely shook his head and reached out, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You did what you had to do, I don’t blame you for that. It’s true that at first my anger was a bit—overwhelming. But I had a lying snake whispering in my ear and I didn’t know any better. But I owe you little brother. If you hadn’t sent Windel back when you did, if you hadn’t helped to expose Clint, our castle would have fallen and I would be dead; along with the rest of your people. I cannot ever repay the debt we owe you for that and I will not let anyone else judge you for what happened either.”
He couldn’t help the emotions rising up inside as he reached forward and embraced his brother. Astonishingly enough, he thought he heard John choking back a couple of tears as well. They clapped each other on the back and John pushed him back to take a better look at him.
“I can still see mom, but now there’s a lot of dad in you as well,” his brother offered with a grin.
“Yeah, mostly around the—,” he began.
“Eyes,” they both finished together, then broke into fresh laughter.
The door opened and startled him. Turning to glance that way he thought Derek had come back once more but he found Willow walking through it instead. She had a couple more bottles of wine and another glass in hand.
“Wait, did you leave?” he asked in shock.
Willow chuckled. “You think I wanted to be here while the two of you ripped each other apart? No thanks Honey, I may be marrying you but I’m not your nursemaid.”
His jaw dropped. “Seriously, you just ditched me?”
“Oh, what’s the matter, were you actually afraid to be alone with me?” John added, joining in with Willow’s laughter. “And I really don’t think you should be drinking much more of that. Even with your rapid metabolism; it might begin to affect the baby.”
Willow rolled her eyes. “You going to mother hen me too? I’ve already got one, thanks.” She took another sip of the wine and Tristan stared closely at the glass. It was still the same one she had filled before; she hadn’t even made it through one yet. “You two want to hug it out some more? I can give you guys the room.”
John cracked up then. “No, that’s quite all right. Why don’t we just pull up some chairs out here and talk; looks like we have one hell of a view tonight,” he commented, motioning towards the silver dragon in the distance.
There came the flutter of wings and a quick yowl and a cat jumped up onto the balcony railing from below, the young sprite zooming into view. “What the hell?” John stammered, as the cat jumped into his lap and curled up, stretching his claws on his brother’s legs.
“That’s Trek,” he told his older brother with a smile. He’d let Trek out himself as a fairy, that was one surprised look he wanted to see.
“And this, is Shirl,” Willow told him, reaching out and allowing the sprite to land on her hand. Bringing her in closer, she raised her hand to her shoulder and allowed the small fairy to climb on and take a seat. “Don’t worry, they’ve already heard everything we’d have to say anyways, so feel free to speak freely around them.”
John shook his head in amazement. “Fairies and dragons, you two have been busy. Maybe it’s time we catch up, eh?”
He laughed. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“That reminds me,” John said after a brief moment. Reaching into a pouch connected to his belt, he slowly slid a scroll free and tilted it his way. The seal on it had been broken and there were signs of blood soaked into the edges.
His heart stopped; it was his father’s letter.
A tear welled up at the corner of his eye as he tentatively reached out and took it from his brother’s hand. “I had totally forgotten about that,” he managed, feeling an overwhelming tide of emoti
ons spring forth.
“I know that it was hard to give up, but you made the right choice. If not for that unbroken seal and our father’s words, your friend Windel might have been run through with my sword while the palace fell to a goblin horde,” John admitted reluctantly, eyes glazing over for a moment. “That bastard had me truly believing the both of you had murdered our father. I don’t know how I could have been so blinded by that man. I knew what he was from the day he arrived at the palace, swore that I’d get rid of him when I became King, and still I let him in.”
Willow shook her head. “You can’t blame yourself for that. We left in such a hurry, we didn’t get a chance to explain, to you or my sister. We both owed you more than that. There was just so much going on and your father thought he had more time—,” she trailed off, unable to finish.
He tried remembering that afternoon, but so much had happened that it was a foggy memory, refusing to come into focus. “Father assured me that he was going to go tell you everything when we parted, I don’t know why he didn’t. Probably got distracted and thought he’d get to it later. But that bastard Clint got to him first.”
“I missed that bastard during the battle,” John remarked, glaring towards the western horizon.
“And I missed him at Camelot,” he replied in turn, shaking his head. “He’s one slippery bastard. But I’ll tell you something, he’s got a lot of people gunning for him, so he’d best steer clear of coming here.”
John laughed. “I don’t think he’s that smart.”
He forced a chuckle. “Probably right.”
His brother elbowed him, turning to Willow. “I almost forgot something myself. You two have a new niece, her name is Constance.”
III
A short time later and a bottle down, John sat back and lit a tobacco pipe; something that their father had a habit of doing and not what he’d ever seen his brother do in his presence. “When did you start that?”
“Right when they put the crown on my head,” John chuckled back. “Looks like you could use some. Take it the conversation with Bordin didn’t go well?”
Phoenix Rising (the New Age Saga Book 3) Page 16