by F. P. Spirit
Shortly after dinner, the Heroes and their friends walked over to The Theater of the Festive Spirits. The entire town seemed to be gathered there, many folks still milling around outside the large hall. Upon entering the theater, the companions were greeted by the town magistrate, Fraith. He led them through what was a nearly-packed theater, down to the front row. A stately-looking woman with long, jet black hair and a pale complexion sat alone in the center of the otherwise empty aisle. When she saw them, she stood up. Fraith introduced them.
“This is the Lord Mayor DeWyness.”
“And these must be the Heroes of Ravenford,” Mayor DeWyness replied, simultaneously giving them the once over. She had a positively snobbish air about her that made Glo cringe. It reminded him far too much of the snooty elves from the Great Houses of his home city—not to mention Sir Fafnar and the Duke of Dunwynn. He did not wish to prejudge her, but from his experience, people like that had a tendency to look down on others. Glo found that kind of attitude insufferable. People were people, and should be treated with respect, no matter their station in life. With a nod to Aksel, Elladan stepped forward and introduced each of the companions in turn. Much as Glo expected, the Mayor remained rather aloof until he got to Lloyd.
“Hmm, a young Lord from the noble Penwick House of Stealle? Our humble little town is honored by your presence,” DeWyness practically purred.
Lloyd’s reply was typically humble. “Thank you, Lord Mayor. It is our privilege to help in any way we can.”
DeWyness gave the young man a wan smile. When Elistra was introduced, the Mayor’s face took on a puzzled expression. “Have we met somewhere before? You look exceedingly familiar.”
That mysterious smile crossed the seeress’s lips. “I get that all the time. It’s the eyes.”
Uncharacteristically, Ruka had decided to join them this evening. The companions had previously agreed it best not to disclose her real name, her father being a legend and all. Elladan introduced the young teen as Ruka Grey.
DeWyness arched an eyebrow as she regarded the girl. “Isn’t she a bit young to be traveling with a group such as this?”
“She is my apprentice,” Glo answered before anyone else could respond. The more time they spent with this woman, the more uneasy he felt around her. Perhaps Elladan and Seth were rubbing off on him.
DeWyness shifted her gaze to Glo. “Well then, aren’t you rather young to have an apprentice?”
A thin smile spread across Glo’s lips. This woman was obviously not very familiar with the elven race. “Lord Mayor, I may appear young, but in actuality I am one hundred and twenty years old—easily old enough to take on an apprentice.”
The Mayor opened her mouth to reply, but Ruka cut her off.
“He’s an adequate teacher. I’ll keep him for now.”
DeWyness turned to regard Ruka. She stared at the young teen for a few moments, then began to laugh. It was a cold, hollow sound. “Oh, I like this one,” she declared to herself. A smug smile abruptly crossed her lips. “If you ever tire of the elf, come to me. I’ll show you what a real wizard can teach you.”
“You’re a wizard, Lord Mayor?” The revelation had caught Glo by surprise.
“Indeed, young elf,” DeWyness responded, her tone rather haughty. “And I’d dare say a better one than you.”
Glo spiked an eyebrow but declined to comment. This DeWyness had a rather high opinion of herself. He wondered how good of a wizard she actually was. DeWyness stared at Glo a moment longer, then addressed the entire group. “Anyway, we are grateful for the service you have provided for our fair town this day. I trust you have received your reward?”
“There was a reward?” Seth spoke up for the first time.
DeWyness nodded. “Yes. Five thousand gold pieces for clearing the lake of those troublesome pests.” She turned toward her magistrate. “Fraith, make sure that these folks receive that money.”
Fraith gave a slight bow. “Yes, your Mayorship.”
“Now, since you have provided our town with a much-needed service, please join me as honored guests.” DeWyness waved at the empty seats beside her.
The companions slowly filed into their seats, all except for Elladan. Balmaroh was already up on stage, and Elladan headed up to join him. He had only taken a few steps before DeWyness called out after him.
“Oh, and good bard...”
“Elladan, your Mayorship,” he spun around and corrected her.
“Hmm, yes. Elladan,” she purred the name, “if you would be so kind as to tell the story of your little lake battle first, I am sure my constituents would appreciate it.” She finished with a wave of her hands to the now completely packed theater.
Elladan responded with a half-smile. “Yes, your Mayorship.”
Glo felt a sudden wave of apprehension flood over him. He did not want the truth about Ruka getting out, especially in front of DeWyness. Abruptly, a wry smile spread across his face. Elladan and Seth were definitely rubbing off on him. Elladan climbed up on stage and the two bards had a brief exchange. Balmaroh then stepped forward and addressed the audience.
“People of Vermoorden!”
The theater quieted down.
“We have gathered here this evening for The Battle of the Bards!” Some cheers went up through the crowd.
“But first, my good friend Elladan here will tell the tale of the battle earlier today with the lake monsters.”
The audience began to cheer in earnest. Elladan stepped forward and motioned with his hands for the crowd to settle down.
“Thank you. Thank you very much. Now then...”
Elladan began the tale of their battle on the lake. As Glo had heard him do so often, Elladan made the trip sound like a quest of epic proportion. He embellished in spots, but when it came to Ruka’s accomplishments, the bard rather adeptly attributed them to Glo. Lloyd, Alana, Seth and Donatello were credited with killing off the one monster that had clamped onto the ship.
When Elladan finished his tale, the crowd erupted, coming to its feet. When the applause finally died down, DeWyness turned toward Glo, a sickly sweet smile on her otherwise cold features. “Perhaps I was too hasty in my estimation of you, good elf. You seem much more capable than I originally thought.”
“Thank you, your Mayorship,” Glo replied, not feeling any more comfortable with the woman.
“I might be able to use someone of your abilities in my staff,” DeWyness purred. “If you are ever interested, feel free to come by my keep.”
Glo forced himself to smile. “Thank you, your Mayorship. I will give that some consideration.”
As Glo sat back in his seat, he felt an elbow jab him in the side. He turned to see Ruka, with a wide smirk on her face. “You seem much more capable than I originally thought,” she whispered, mimicking DeWyness almost perfectly.
Seth, seated on the other side of Ruka, let out a wicked laugh. Glo fixed the duo with an acid stare. Before he could respond, however, he felt a hand on his arm. He spun around as Elistra leaned in close and whispered, “Do not trust that woman.”
They were so close that their noses almost touched, the seeress’s eyes like two violet orbs blocking out all else from sight. He could feel the warmth of her skin and smell the scent of her perfume—a heavenly lavender. His senses flooded, Glo momentarily lost focus. Abruptly, he broke out of his trance, mentally chastising himself for his brief lapse. “Oh, I don’t,” he whispered back. Elistra merely nodded, but there was a trace of that knowing smile on her lips as she pulled away from him.
With the storytelling done, The Battle of the Bards began in earnest. Balmaroh insisted that Elladan, as his guest, should go first. Elladan politely accepted. He had already arranged with Glo and Lloyd to put on the same performance he had given at Andrella’s party. When they were ready, Lloyd set the beat with his drums and Glo
created a fog bank on stage.
Once again, Elladan’s dark silhouette appeared in the cloud, dancing lights alit behind him. When he stepped out of the fog, Glo set off a pyrotechnic effect. The one thing that was different was Elladan himself. For some reason, the elven bard made no fighting poses, nor did he dance around, instead, standing still as he sang. The result was a nice performance, but without the same energy as his previous show. When he was done, the crowd applauded, but not with the same wild abandon as in Ravenford.
Elladan strode off stage and took his seat between the Mayor and Elistra. Glo leaned over next to the seeress and whispered past her to the bard, “What happened up there?”
Elladan peered back at Glo, and whispered to him with a wink, “Never beat a bard on his home turf. It’s bad form.”
Now it was Balmaroh’s turn. The crowd grew quiet as the hometown bard gave his performance. Rhith and Newin set up the same effects they had used in rehearsal the night before. The result was stunning, making it sound as if three voices were singing at once.
She flies
On wings on high Carried by winds,
Oh, why can’t I?
The zephyr’s love
Lifts her above
I serve a mighty Lord
With faith and sword
But my heart
Is weak as a dove
The song went on for a few more verses, and when Balmaroh was done the audience gave him a standing ovation. The Mayor climbed up onto the stage and officially declared Balmaroh the winner of the battle. Surprisingly, she also invited the companions up on stage, presenting them with the key to the city. In reality, it was just an oversized, plain brass key, but no one complained. The audience cheered once again.
“Guess we’re all winners tonight,” Balmaroh cried over the applause as they all took turns bowing.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Elladan shouted back, giving Glo a quick wink.
Early the next morning, Sir Craven arrived in Vermoorden, accompanied by two cavalry units of the Knights of the Rose. Twelve armored riders, both men and women, followed the knight into the courtyard of the House of Barmann. Two younger riders, not as heavily geared, trailed after them, carrying pennants, one with a golden griffin, the other a crescent moon.
Alana hailed her fellow knight. “Well met, Sir Craven.”
Sir Craven reined in his mount, signaling the rest of the riders to a halt. “Well met, Dame Alana.”
The riders dismounted and formed up into ranks. Alana performed a brief inspection, Sir Craven by her side. When she was done, she introduced the companions, then nodded to Aksel and took a step back. Aksel stepped forward, but paused a moment before speaking. He was not used to giving speeches—that was more Elladan’s forte. Aksel swept his eyes over the gathered troops. These were stalwart men and women, standing in perfect formation, immaculate in their white tabards with rose insignias and shining silver chain mail. It was an inspiring sight. Suddenly Aksel knew what he wanted to say.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice. This is a critical mission we are undertaking, with the fate of all Thac possibly laying in the balance. Things may get very dangerous when we reach our destination, but I can’t think of better allies to have at our side than the Knights of the Rose.”
The men and women responded by drawing their swords and saluting him in perfect unison. Aksel had never been saluted before—it made him feel all warm inside. A genuine smile broke out across his face and he waved back to the troops before turning to Alana. “Let’s go inside and grab some tables. Your people could probably use breakfast, and we have much to discuss.”
Alana nodded and stepped forward once more, her voice ringing out across the yard. “Stable your horses, then regroup inside for breakfast. This will be the last town we will see for a while. Make sure you have all the supplies you need and that all your gear is in good condition. Now dismissed!”
“Yes sir!” came the unified response. The dozen or so riders broke ranks, leading their mounts to the stable. The stable boy, James, stood in the doorway gawking at all the horses to be tended.
Donnie, standing next to Lloyd, nudged the tall man. “Let’s go give him a hand.”
Lloyd’s eyes moved from Donnie to Aksel. Aksel gave Lloyd a brief nod. Lloyd grinned, then took off with Donnie toward the stable. Aksel watched them for a few moments, truly touched by the kind gesture. He already knew Lloyd was good hearted, but Donnie was proving to be as well underneath that roguish exterior. As Aksel turned his attention back to the courtyard, he noted the two youngest riders had remained behind. The one with the banner of the moon had gone to take Sir Craven’s mount as well as his own, while the second one approached Alana. He stopped a few paces from her, and gave a crisp salute. Alana saluted back.
“This is my squire, Syndir,” she told the others.
Syndir gazed around the group, his eyes filled with curiousity, then quickly returned his attention to Alana. “Your mount is in the stable, my lady?”
Alana gave him a brief smile. “Yes, he is.”
Syndir responded with a curt nod. “Very good. I shall make sure he gets a good brushing down.” The young squire gave a crisp salute, then spun on his heel and led his horse to the stables after the others.
Alana watched after him for a few moments, a proud expression on her face, then turned to the others, ushering them toward the inn. “Gentlemen, shall we?”
Aksel and the others filed inside. Barmann must have seen the large group outside his establishment and roused his staff. They already had a number of tables lined up together at the back of the common room for their numerous guests. The companions picked a large table and sat down with Alana and Sir Craven. The conversation remained light while they waited for Lloyd and Donnie to rejoin them. It wasn’t too long before the duo reappeared, along with the rest of the Knights of the Rose.
The common room was soon packed, Barmann himself helping to wait the tables. The aroma of breakfast soon wafted in from the kitchen, and before long everyone was treated to a hearty meal. Eggs, hotcakes, bacon, sausage, biscuits, potatoes, juice, and ale were all served in plentiful heaps. Appetites were finally sated, and the men and women of the cavalry slowly filtered out of the inn to prepare for the trip ahead.
Once breakfast was cleared away, Elladan pulled out a large parchment and unrolled it across the table. It was a detailed map of the area surrounding Lake Strikken, including Vermoorden, the town of Three Forks, the city of Lukescros, and the Darkwoods. Glo and Elistra joined the bard in pinpointing the exact location of the monolith. Between the wizard, the seeress, and Elladan’s knowledge of geography, they swiftly identified its position, just south of the source of the West Stromen, the river that fed into the north end of Lake Strikken. Now that they had located the monolith, the next question was the best way to get there. Elladan leaned over the map, placed a finger on Vermoorden, and slowly traced a line north and then west.
“According to the map, there are no roads through the Darkwoods. Your best bet is to head north from here and make your way around the swamp until you reach the West Stromen. From there, you could follow the river into the Darkwoods till you reach its tributaries. At that point, you would need to cross over and head south to reach where we believe the monolith to be.”
Alana and Sir Craven had been leaning over the map, intently following the bard’s directions. Now the duo sat back and conferred. They seemed mostly concerned about the type of terrain they would run into and the difficulties of leading armored riders through a dense forest. After a few minutes, Aksel spoke up. “Alana, Sir Craven, pardon me, but how long do you think the journey will take you?”
The two knights paused in their conversation and turned to Aksel. Sir Craven’s hand went to his chin, stroking the short dark beard that decorated his chin. Alana’s brow furrowed w
ith deep concentration. Sir Craven was the first to break the silence. “Well, considering the distance to be traveled, the type of terrain, and the fact that we have light cavalry units... I would guess about three days.”
Alana nodded her head slowly. “I agree with Sir Craven’s assessment. Light cavalry moves faster than heavily armored knights, but once they hit the woods the going will be slow.”
Aksel let out a sigh—that was way too long. The Serpent Cult had already been at the monolith a full day. The longer they had to search the place unhindered, the more likely they were to find Larketh’s works. He glanced at Glo and saw his own concern mirrored in the wizard’s eyes. Maybe it was best that they go ahead of the knights after all. Aksel turned to Elladan. “How long did you say it would take to reach the monolith by river?”
Elladan eyes swept over the map. “I’m not the expert on sailing here, but based on the distance, I thought it wouldn’t take more than a day.”
Both Donnie and Lloyd stood up, leaned over and examined the route upriver. “That’s neglecting the fact that we would be headed against the current,” Donnie pointed out.
“Also, not to mention that we may run into rough water,” Lloyd added.
Aksel’s eyes moved from the slight elf to the tall man. “So how long would you two estimate?”
Donnie and Lloyd exchanged glances.
“Two days,” Lloyd answered.
“Three actually,” Donnie corrected him.
“Three?” The word nearly exploded out of Glo’s mouth.
Donnie threw up his hands and shrugged. “Well, the Rusty Nail was pretty roughed up by that giant octopus. Morled said it won’t be ready for the trip up river until tomorrow.”
Aksel sat back and took a deep breath. It seemed as if they had little choice. “So either way, it will take us three days to reach the monolith. And you’re certain there’s no other ship that could take us?”