“Take my mount. In the saddlebags, you will find several weeks of dried rations and three scrolls. The first must go to Master T’aver, you should know where to find him and yes, dear, I recall your dread of the swamp. I have inscribed that scroll with a special seal. The seal can only be broken by his hand.
“Still, choose your messenger with utmost care. This message must reach his hands. He must know what to do when the time comes. The second scroll you are to read only after you have departed the council. Do not read it before then. Among its instructions it lists the time when you should open and read the final scroll. Under no circumstances are you to read it before the appropriate time.
“Go now and take my blessing with you, it is for you that I fear the most.” Xith’s face grew dark and shadowed. “Watch your way with care, and I will see you many more times.”
“Many more times,” Xith repeated, waving to Midori as she departed. Then he looked to the heavens and sighed.
Nestled among a few shining stars under an otherwise cloudy sky, a pale and somber gibbous moon shone down. He bedded down beneath his thick blanket, his worries turning from the girl who ran away into the stark, hostile unknown to the boy, Vilmos, who was cradled in the known.
Taking the boy to Tsitadel’ would have proven the easiest route, though he had already followed this path to its end in his mind. No, this path was reserved for another.
Xith had other plans for the boy, and in this he must not fail. He did not know if he could cheat fate, or even if it was wise to try, but try he must.
Chapter Eight:
Guidance
The storm clouds of early morning were blown south by strong winds out of the north and a clear bright sky quickly replaced dark clouds. Adrina rode quietly, content for a time simply to watch the scenery they passed, scattered trees, farmers and work animals in fields, and the occasional traveler. The swelling rounds of the Braddabaggon quickly replaced the green of flat open plains. Though the gentle foothills weren’t wild country, Adrina kept her eyes wide open. She didn’t want to end up like Ridemaster Gabrylle. No lowland cat was going to ruin her day.
She thought about the long southwesterly trek to Alderan. The coastal port city, a mere day’s ride south of the Free Cities of Mir and Veter, was rumored to be beautiful beyond compare. In days of old Alderan City had been the capital of the Kingdom. Named after the first king of the land, the Alder, it was once considered the meeting place of the North, South and East.
Adrina maneuvered her mount between Keeper Martin and Emel, and attempted to spark a conversation with Emel, though without success. She didn’t know why he was angry with her but she aimed to apologize quickly. She needed someone to talk to.
“Emel, I am sorry. I won’t do it ever again, whatever it was. I promise,” said Adrina softly.
“Are you at least going to tell me what you know?” Emel asked. “Or do I get nothing in repayment?”
Before she might have decided to come clean and admit she didn’t know anything, but as she considered his question, she decided instead to feed him along. “Well, you actually didn’t help me. It was Father Jacob who did, and he already knows the plan.”
In response, Emel spurred his mount and rode to the front of the party. Her intent hadn’t been to anger Emel, only to carry on a conversation with him. Now she felt doubly poor for what she had done. An earlier promise would be kept, she would say an extra prayer this evening to repent for the subterfuge.
“Dear, he will forgive you in time. For now, just let him be. Enjoy the morning and the fresh air. Drink in its beauty,” said Keeper Martin.
Adrina was aghast; the Lore Keeper had spoken to her. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she had already enjoyed the morning and was now becoming extremely bored. Her reply instead was an easy response of agreement, a few more hours of silence would be tolerable, but just barely so. She hoped Emel would speak to her soon.
At midday Captain Brodst called the column to a halt. The abeyance would only be long enough to give horses and tired foot soldiers a much needed rest and to grab a light repast. Adrina was very pleased to rid her bottom of the saddle for a short time.
After dismounting and leading her horse to where Keeper Martin, Father Jacob and a few others were gathered next to a small stream beside the road, she readily dove into her saddle bags. To her delight, she found dried beef, still-warm rolls and a skin of kindra-ale. In all the excitement she had not even remembered to eat this morning.
While she ate, Adrina looked to the Lore Keeper and the king’s first minister. She wondered at Father Jacob’s approval of her presence. His words had surprised her then and puzzled her now as she contemplated them. Why did a man who spoke directly to Great-Father care about a mere girl? Why did a man like that do anything?
And then there was Keeper Martin. Rumor had it the great keepers communicated in dreams and that is how they recorded the histories of all that went on in the land. Rumor also had it that Martin was unlike his predecessors. Martin was forever traversing the land. Heading over-mountain, braving the wilds of the Territories or journeying to unknown places in the Far South. Before Martin the head keeper never left the Halls of Knowledge.
“It is impolite to stare, dear,” whispered a voice in her ear.
Hastily, Adrina swallowed a lump of half-chewed meat. “I didn’t mean to stare. Do you know everything, Keeper?”
Grey-haired Martin chuckled. “No, Your Highness, I don’t, though there are those who say I would like to.”
Adrina took a sip of kindra-ale, a bitter tasting drink with an unpleasant aftertaste that was strangely satisfying. “Will you be going all the way to Alderan with us, Keeper Martin?”
“I was planning to turn south at the crossroads and press on to South Province with the detachment heading to Quashan’ garrison, but I think I will continue to Alderan. My business in the South can wait a few days.”
Not knowing what else to say, Adrina smiled and returned to her meal. After eating she wandered to the edge of the stream. There was a small pool here, formed where white waters rushing from upstream found themselves blocked by two large boulders. Bending down, she dipped her hands into the water of the pool. Finding it clear, she rinsed the dirt of the road from her face and neck. Then she slipped off her riding boots and dangled her toes in the cool water.
She looked back to the soldiers milling about on the road and finding not a few stares directed her way she blushed. “Not a proper thing to do,” she imagined Lady Isador telling her. She quickly slipped her boots back on and pulled the collar of her riding blouse into place.
“Adrina?” called out Emel timidly, approaching slowly. “I’m really sorry about earlier. I was just frustrated that’s all. I heard the news about your upcoming betrothal to Rudden Klaiveson. I guess I was just being petty. After all, you are a grown woman, but I thought you would’ve told me first. We are friends, aren’t we?”
“Heard it from your father no doubt.” Adrina frowned. “I’m not betrothed to Rudden Klaiveson. I’m to visit Klaive—there’s a difference.”
“Is there?”
Adrina glared. “Rudden Klaiveson is days away and at the end of our journey. We’ll have no talk of him or anyone else that’ll ruin our fun. Deal?”
Emel nodded in fast agreement.
Hearing the heated discussion of a large group of men, Adrina turned. “What are they discussing over there?”
“Scouts. They left the group a few hours ago. Must’ve just returned,” replied Emel. He cocked his head in their direction. “Sounds like they’re worried about something ahead. The rains returning perhaps. You see the three approaching just now, with the gold lapels?”
“Captains?”
“The one on the right with the grizzled beard is Captain Trendmore. The tall southerner is Captain Adylton. The other is Captain Ghenson. He’s quick-witted. I like him.”
Adrina grabbed Emel’s arm. “Were they just talking about the ship from Wellison?”
“I don’t think so. It wouldn’t be a prudent thing to do—” A horn sounding the end of the rest cut Emel short. “—Time to mount. Do you wish to ride with me? I can show you a few things, about riding and scouting.”
Adrina puckered her lower lip and bit the corner of it. “Really?” she said wide-eyed.
With the afternoon came autumn rains. At first it was only a gentle mist coming down upon them, later heavy sheets of icy rain. The travelers quickly became bogged down in gooey, sticky muck. With no place to hide and wait out the storm in the open fields, stopping served no purpose. For safety’s sake the great column slowed to a crawl, yet Captain Brodst kept the group traveling onward.
Despite hood and cloak pulled tightly around her, Adrina was drenched through. Rain streamed down her face and though she was drenched, she was happy—the dreariness was comforting and reassuring.
“Isn’t this great?” shouted Emel, raising his voice above the ruckus of hundreds of hooves plodding through thick trail mud and the heavy downpour. “Castle watch is monotonous when compared to this, nothing compares to this!”
Adrina edged her mount closer to his, then reached over and slugged him on the arm. Emel didn’t respond. He just smirked rather broadly.
Wet clothes and wet saddle began to chaff as time slipped away. Adrina could feel the cold in her bones now and desperately wanted to stop for another rest. She turned to look back at the others through the shroud of rain. Father Jacob wore a solemn, thoughtful expression on an otherwise expressionless face. Knowing that the good priest was always like this—true feeling hidden on the interior of a hardened exterior—she wondered what feelings were hidden behind the clear, impressionless mask. For therein lies the heart of the man—her mother had told her that once long ago.
The rain notwithstanding, Keeper Martin had his eyes wide open. He scanned the horizon ahead. His face, with upturned eyebrows and slightly furled lips, showed little complacency. Clearly he didn’t like the rain or the trail conditions, yet as always he sought to maintain a clear awareness of their surroundings and find the good in ill. Something troubled him, noted Adrina. She guessed that it probably had something to do with their journey—the keeper had too much wisdom sometimes.
Besides the ever-present scowl, Captain Brodst had an otherwise expressionless countenance. For Adrina, the scowl signified order. The captain kept his companions and his subordinates in check with it—the guards, the soldiers, not even the distinguished guests, Adrina included, dared to speak their thoughts. They would endure the rain for as long as the captain ordered.
The others in the long line of garrison soldiers fore and aft, still four abreast on the muddied kingdom road, and the palace guardsmen that encircled her, Adrina noted, were disheartened. The rain was bogging down their thoughts. Some of those whose faces she could see despite the murky rain were thinking of other places—perhaps home and loved ones, perhaps just the local ale house—but still it was clear they were thinking of someplace else.
Her special talent, a learned talent for knowing what others were thinking from their expressions, a gift perfected during numerous court sessions, ended as she turned to regard Emel. She had a hard time discerning his feelings from his expressions. This especially troubled her and attracted her to him. As she considered this, her eyes wandered toward him once more—quickly turning away down the muddied path as her gaze met his. The message in his eyes, mixed feelings—feelings she didn’t like—was confusing.
As the rain persisted and the day grew long, Captain Brodst signaled another slackening of the pace. Afterwards, he signaled the young sergeant to fall in place beside him. Adrina followed, then after slowing her mount, she did her best to listen in.
“… Remember it will be a light camp, no tents,” reminded the captain, “so find us a good thick spot in a forested canopy.”
To Adrina’s surprise, he addressed her next.
“Sorry, Your Highness,” Captain Brodst said, “we will be unable to reach an inn. I had hoped we would be able to make up some time, but the rain is slowing us to a crawl. Our file is too long to risk much faster travel.”
“You considered stopping at an inn,” said Adrina, more to herself than to the captain. “Even after what you said before we departed Imtal?”
“Come on, Adrina!” yelled Emel, as he urged Ebony to race the wind. “Catch up!”
Captain Brodst was part way into a response that was quickly drowned out as Adrina raced to intercept the retreating figure. She did toss him a final probing stare, though, as she swatted her horse to speed the weary animal’s lackluster pace. She was also quick to turn back to the trail ahead as the captain sought to raise an objection. She was certain she was right about his constant scowl. It was his shield.
“You see, my father…” shouted Emel, looking back over his shoulder as his horse galloped through the thick mud and rain, “… the captain has a heart after all.”
For a long time the two sped along the trail despite the greatly reduced visibility from the rain, diminishing daylight and their speed. Adrina had a difficult time maintaining her focus on the figure ahead. Soon she became completely unaware of her surroundings, and watched only for the spray of mud from hastening hooves ahead.
“Emel, wait up! We aren’t in that much of a hurry are we? The others are well behind us by now. Besides, how can we find a suitable place to stop if we can’t even see what we are passing by?”
Emel reined Ebony in. “I don’t need to see where I am going. Even in the rain I know this section of the road like the back of my hand.” He stroked Ebony Lightning. “My first apprenticeship was as a king’s messenger. I know exactly where we’ll find a sheltered site away from the rain.”
“Then why are we racing?”
“Imtal Palace Guardsmen and guests shall have the base fire. The garrison troops will have to fend for themselves. They have their own detachment and squadron commanders. It is my father’s way of telling the palace guard he cares. Garrison soldiers will also see him as one who cares well for his own and perhaps there will be more than a few who at the end of this trip will wish to enlist in his service. At the end of a long journey soldiers remember the little things. Food, water and shelter are held in the highest regard.
“And we race for sport,” said Emel urging Ebony faster and faster.
Mud and dirty water was propelled high into the air and fell just short of Adrina as she fought to catch up with a flagging mount.
After they had rounded several bends in the road and breached several low hills, Adrina momentarily lost sight of Emel. Her heart still pounding from the race, she held her breath as she tried to discern shapes in the dim light. Then she spotted horse and rider racing off the trail and hastened after them.
Just before he reached the edge of the woods, Emel turned Ebony about and raced back toward her. In one swift move he wheeled his mount along side Adrina’s and, reaching down, seized her horse’s reins just above the bit, bringing the mare to a rigid stop. Not expecting this, Adrina tumbled from the horse into the mud.
Emel dismounted. “Can I help you up, Your Highness?” he asked smugly.
Adrina could see he was trying to contain the humor within from bursting into raucous laughter. Her face was red and tears came to her eyes. Mud clung to her hair, her clothes, her cloak, and frustrated hands did little to remove it. “No, I think you’ve done enough already. I am quite fine.”
Emel tossed her an impish look and if she hadn’t burst into laughter, Adrina would have cried deeply. The laughter, a much need burst of cheer, was oddly cleansing, but short-lived.
“Damn you, Emel!” she screamed, “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”
She was crying now and suddenly screaming at him again. “Damn you, damn you—” She realized she was whining and then how pathetic she sounded, and she laughed again—and the laughter felt good.
When Emel offered her his hand in assistance, she pulled him forward, and didn’t let go until he
landed face first into the mud. Then she tried to run out of his reach, but was too slow.
“Why you,” yelled Emel, as he grabbed the retreating foot.
A backwards slip landed her, with a muddled thud, on her backside. She squirmed to get away from him as he dragged her toward him.
“Let me go! Let me go!”
Emel continued to drag her by one leg backwards through the mud as she fought to break free while the rain beat down on them in a sudden strong drove. With both hands, she scooped up a large clump of mud and threw it at Emel. It landed with a splat, squarely on target and she finally broke free of his grip.
“So that’s how you want to play it,” Emel said, grabbing a large handful of wet muck.
Adrina returned the volley. “Serves you right!”
The mud flinging continued back and forth until they were both drenched and covered in mud from head to toe. Adrina was laughing so hard she fell backwards into the mud, adeptly tripping Emel as she went down. As she pushed a sodden handful into his face, both burst into hearty laughter. Then content to sit idle, allowing the rain to splash down upon them, the two passed a quiet moment.
“Stand up,” Adrina said to Emel, offering her hand to him as he stood. “We have to get all this mud off of us before the others catch up. I don’t want to get you into any more trouble.”
Emel looked at her, eyes agape, as if he had just remembered something that his life depended on. Warily, he accepted her offer, quickly returning to reality from the momentary reprieve. They waited in the rain just long enough for it to wash the majority of the mud from their clothing and then prepared to move under the forest canopy.
“Grab your horse, follow me,” said Emel.
Hurriedly, he led her into the large stand of nearby fir.
Quickly the rain became scarcely noticeable as they entered the thick folds of the shielded canopy and as they moved deeper and deeper into the heart of the great fir stand the rain was soon only a pleasant sound in the distance. The world became suddenly quiet and calm.
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