A Sea of Cinders

by Adam Bishop

  “Duly noted Mr. Brynmor,” Baldric said. He exchanged a smirking glance with William. What they’d heard of old ‘Brittle’ Brynmor had turned out to be true.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  A Brief Goodbye

  A loud banging startled William and Baldric early the next morning. They were discussing the remaining course of their journey from the comfort of their beds. They’d been given their own room, furnished with two feathered beds and an assortment of large down-stuffed pillows—a luxury neither of them had ever expected.

  “Come on now, up and at ‘em!” Brynmor shouted as he banged his cane against their doors. “The sun only rises once a day. You don’t wanna miss it!”

  Baldric couldn’t help but smile at Brynmor’s intrusive manner. He knew the old man was probably always the first one awake in the Golden Breast, and that he probably just wanted someone to join him for breakfast.

  They rolled out of bed and quickly got dressed so they could put a stop to Brynmor’s persistent rattling.

  “Ah! There you’se are, fresh and fine, I reckon?” Brynmor asked, without even wanting an answer. “No better place in these parts to rest your head, I tell ya. I have my own house in town, I do, but I always seem to spend my nights here.”

  Although the Gladsaxe Inn was a fine establishment, the real reason behind Brynmor’s prolonged visits—some might even say his permanency—was the passing of his late wife, Caron. Though the old bugger would never admit it, deep down he missed her, and the more time he spent at home the harder it was for him to enjoy his remaining days. Many had thought he wouldn’t last long after her passing, but the stubborn old bugger managed to prove them all wrong.

  “I don’t blame you,” Baldric said. “I can’t remember the last time I slept so well.”

  “It sure beats sleeping on the ground,” William added. “I’ve never slept in a bed that size before. My father’s ship held a crew of over twenty men—there was no space for comfort in the hull.”

  “Well, let’s not linger,” Brynmor said. “I know you’se mean to leave soon. Might as well fill your bellies before you do.”

  They made their way downstairs, back to the same table from the previous night. As always, Brynmor’s breakfast was waiting for him—only today, two other meals had been laid out as well. Gladys had prepared three hefty bowls of porridge, each dusted with brown sugar, plus a row of plump breakfast sausages.

  William and Baldric finished eating long before Brittle Brynmor, whose food grew cold over the course of his ramblings.

  “And that’s how the Gladsaxe got its name,” Brynmor concluded, finishing off another of his famous stories.

  “I think you’ve met your match,” William said as he clapped a hand on Baldric’s shoulder. “I didn’t think I’d ever meet anyone who could talk more than him. You’ve certainly proven me wrong, Mr. Brynmor.”

  “He’s still young yet,” Brittle replied with a wispy chortle. “Wait until he’s my age. The stories will flow like the wind.”

  “And how old might that be?” Baldric asked, taking advantage of the opportunity. “If you don’t mind my asking, that is.”

  Just as Brynmor was about to answer, Rhys came walking through the front door of the inn. “I figured Brittle would have ye up bright and early,” he said with a humoured grin. “I already spoke with Merv. Two horses are waiting for you’se outside. I put a little somethin’ in the saddlebags, but wait until you reach the Viridian Veil to take them out. I’m sure the Elves would like to share them with ya.”

  “A true friend you are,” said Baldric “I’ll look forward to the next time we meet.”

  “As will I,” William agreed.

  Rhys smiled and gave them a friendly nod. “May you have a safe journey. Be sure to visit us again.”

  “We will,” they both agreed.

  ***

  Before leaving the Inn, William and Baldric checked over their supplies to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything. When everything was accounted for, they thanked Rhys, Brynmor, and Gladys for all they had done. Such kindness was a rarity that neither of them had experienced in their lives up until now. Part of them itched to stay—but they knew more concerning matters were at hand.

  “Hold your horses, lads! I have a favour to ask before you leave,” Brynmor said. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small object he had wrapped in a silk cloth and secured with twine. “It’s a gift for Lord Thinduill. I hoped to give it to him myself, but my old age has kept me from the saddle. These brittle bones of mine wouldn’t last a minute on horseback.”

  Baldric took the gift and put it in his bag. “I’ll make sure he gets it. Do you mind if I ask what it is?”

  “Just a little something,” Brynmor replied. “A thank you of sorts, for teaching me the art of wood carving. Tell him, I am very sorry.”

  Brynmor shook hands with both boys and bid them a good farewell. He also promised to bat them over the head with his cane if they took too long before their next visit.

  “There is something I should warn you’se about,” Rhys said, just as they were about to leave the Gladsaxe Inn. William and Baldric gave each other a puzzled glance before redirecting their attention to Rhys.

  “Has there been another sighting in the Valley of Larin?” Will asked in a worried tone.

  “No, nothing like that,” Rhys answered. “It’s just, well, word has got around … and there are a few others who wish to see you off as well. You know, in honour of your bravery and good intentions.”

  “Splendid!” said Baldric. “Let us meet the merry folk then.”

  They followed Rhys and were greeted with a beautiful surprise. Nearly half the town stood waiting to greet them outside the Inn. It was true, word had spread—neither of them ever could have expected such a sizable crowd. Although they had yet to even warn the Elves and complete their journey, many of the townspeople wished to show their appreciation all the same.

  “On behalf of the Golden Breast, we would like to thank you for your valour!” A man announced as he emerged from the crowd. He was short and stout, in his late sixties, and he carried a large satchel with him. His name was Cadoc Carwyn, and although the Breast had no mayor (or any authoritative figure for that matter) he was often thought of as the town dignitary. “We may not have the supplies some of them northern cities carry, but everyone has pitched in what they could,” Cadoc said. He handed the leather satchel over to Baldric. “May it aid you in your travels,” he added with a subdued bow.

  The crowd then broke out into a boisterous clamour, clapping and cheering the two novice travellers for their noble actions. Until now, William hadn’t fully realized how important their quest to meet the Elves had become. Hiding under the ash of Rhan, all those days ago, may have very well saved far more lives than just their own. They couldn’t have been certain of it then, especially not William—but now, as they drew closer to their goal, the impact of their commendable treason seemed to grow.

  “Your generosity will never be forgotten!” Baldric announced. “Thanks to you, the Elves will sooner learn the identity of their enemies in the north. We thank you again for all that you’ve done. May the Golden Breast live on free from the threat of any war!”

  Baldric’s words brought the crowd back to life with a festive cheer. A few townspeople came forward to shake their hands and wish them luck on the remainder of their journey.

  ***

  Rhys showed them to their horses after the exchange of pleasantries. Two beautiful mares stood saddled and ready, awaiting their new riders.

  “This here is Aderyn,” Rhys said to Baldric. “She tends to go a little fast now and then, but I feel like you’re up for the challenge. A stubborn steed for a stubborn mind, eh?” He patted Baldric on the shoulder and turned to William. “And for you, William, we have Eira. You couldn’t ask for a smoother ride,” he said as he stroked the mane of the snow-white mare. “Being that you grew up at sea, I figured your riding skills may be a little rusty.”


  “Rusty,” William repeated. “I’ve never ridden a horse in my life!”

  “Oh, don’t worry. It’s easier than it looks,” Rhys said. He hoisted William up onto the saddle without warning. “The Valley of Larin is straight ahead. You can’t miss it. Be sure to keep a mindful eye on your way through, eh? There haven’t been any new sightings, but the enemy may still be lurking about.”

  “Don’t you worry, Rhys. I have the eyes of a hawk,” Baldric said with a firm nod. “I won’t let anything stop us. We’re too close now.”

  “That you are. The Veil is nearly a two-day ride from here. Just keep west once you pass through the Valley of Larin, and you’se should be fine. The Nine Tail River runs right through the Elven wood. If you’se get lost, just follow the water’s edge.”

  “Good to know,” said William. “You can never be too sure when your guide doesn’t know the meaning of the word lost.”

  Rhys smiled, laughing a little under his breath. “I’ll miss you two. Be careful on the road. I don’t do well with goodbyes, so let’s make this a quick one, shall we?”

  Rhys then slapped the two horses on the backside and watched as his new friends rode off into the distance.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  A Journey’s End

  William and Baldric rode toward the Valley of Larin with haste. Although this was William’s first time riding a horse, he managed to hold his own—even with his stiff, awkward posture.

  “Much better than walking the rest of the way, isn’t it, my friend?” Baldric shouted into the wind. A few moments passed before he realized William had yet to answer. “Will?” he called. He spun around only to find his friend lagging far behind. “Easy girl, easy now,” Baldric said, leaning back in the saddle. He then recalled what Rhys had told him about his horse, of how she rode much faster than most. He wouldn’t have noticed if not for William. The faster the better, he thought. A good choice, Rhys. Baldric was pleased with his new steed. He then turned his horse around and doubled back until he caught up with Will.

  “What are you doing all the way back here?” Baldric asked, riding alongside William once again.

  “I may have never ridden a horse before, but I can tell when I’m moving slow,” William replied. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you two were competing in a race. I don’t think my horse could even move that fast if she wanted to.”

  Baldric let out a wispy laugh. “Well, Aderyn here may fly as fast as a bird, but maybe if you didn’t sit as stiff as a board, your horse would feel a little more comfortable. Relax, my friend. Enjoy the ride. Let Eira know you trust her, and she might just surprise you.”

  After a short while, William tried to relax. To his surprise, Eira did quicken her pace—though he had no intention of sharing this information with his friend. They kept a steady pace all morning, and before they knew it the Golden Breast had become a speck in the distance behind them.

  ***

  The towering entrance to the Valley of Larin seamlessly grew into the sky as they drew closer. Neither of them had fathomed the true height of the mountains forging the valley. Seeing it from afar could not have been more misleading. Without noticing, they both slowed to a steady canter upon reaching the base of the daunting blanket of cliffs.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Baldric asked in a way that suggested he had been to the valley before. “A trail of green, surrounded by rock as far as the eye can see. We should move with caution as Rhys suggested. We have no way of knowing what lies ahead.”

  “That we should,” William said. “Keep a sharp eye. Our enemy may very well be lurking in the shadows ahead.”

  Their excitement and awe turned into somber vigilance as they entered the Valley of Larin. All they could hear was the tamping of grass under their slow-trotting horses. The eerie silence of the valley slowed their breath and set them on edge. Although the sky held few clouds and the light of day was on their side, the blanket of cliff cradling them in the valley cast a never-ending shadow, thinning their green path.

  “I see something up around the bend,” Baldric whispered. “It looks like a small black mound of some sort … it could be nothing, but be ready.”

  Moments later, they realized what the black mound Baldric had spotted really was. Sitting like a heaping pile of dirt lay the remains of those who had attacked Arnion and his company of friends. The Elves of the Veil had come to collect their own for a proper burial under the Bleeding Willows, but those who had impersonated the Feathered Knights of Talfryn shared a crowded black grave-pile of burned Braxi scum.

  “This must be what’s left of the northerners Rhys spoke of,” Baldric assumed. “At least I hope it is.”

  William peered at the pile of burnt bodies in front of them. He wanted to look away, but he found himself unable to. His gaze was locked on the sight before him. Every passing second made it that much harder for him to dismiss his haunting memories of Rhan. Just as he began to look away, he spotted something buried among the dead. He dismounted his horse and picked up a half-burnt banner from the charred remains. “Do you know what house this is? I know it doesn’t belong to house Braxis.”

  Baldric was rendered near speechless when he turned to see what William was holding. “Let me see that,” he said snatching the banner from his friend. He brushed it off to make sure he wasn’t mistaken. “Talfryn?” he whispered with a puzzled look. “This is the banner of house Arinfray … but what would they be doing all the way out here? This doesn’t make any sense!”

  “Are you sure it’s theirs?” William asked. “It’s in terrible condition. Perhaps you’re mistaking it for something it’s not.”

  “No, this is the sigil of house Arinfray. I’m sure of it. An eagle perched atop a hill, shaped like a drum tower. No other house shares a similar likeness.”

  “Talfryn … but that’s the human Kingdom you told me has always sided with the Elves, is it not?”

  “Yes. That’s what I find so strange. I doubt Talfryn would ever betray the Elves … it’s not of their nature.”

  “Maybe they came to their aid,” William suggested. “If their loyalty runs as deep as you say, they could have sent reinforcements to help the Elves.”

  “I suppose that’s possible … but it’s still strange. The Viridian Veil is much larger than Rhan, with an army more than triple its size. Dadro would need an army of at least ten thousand if he wished to stand a chance. I just don’t see any need for reinforcements.”

  A brief silence passed between them. Baldric contemplated the possibilities behind their findings, while William waited for an explanation.

  Eventually, Baldric tossed the banner back to the ground and mounted his horse. “Surely the Elves will have an answer for this. We need to keep moving. It’s not safe here.”

  William nodded and joined his friend. They quickened their pace, hoping to only find the exit of the valley and nothing more. However, their eagerness to reach the valley’s end made their journey seem that much longer. At one point William felt as though the valley was trying to mock him. He knew they had only been traveling in one direction, but at times he felt like they were going in circles.

  Will it ever end? William thought. The trip started reminded him of how he used to feel as a child sailing across the seas in his father’s ship. No matter how long they travelled, he always felt as if they had made no progress. The horizon always remained the same. Water sat in every direction.

  “Shouldn’t be much longer now!” Baldric shouted. “The sun sits directly above us. Rhys told me we should reach the other side of the valley by midday.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” William answered. “As beautiful as this valley is, I look forward to seeing its end.”

  “Shall we make it a race then? First one out of the valley gets the last of Rhys’ ales.”

  William tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “I took a peek in our saddlebags,” Baldric admitted. “Rhys said he left a little som
ething inside, but not to take them out until we reached the Elven wood. I had to know what he meant by them.”

  William shook his head. “I assume Rhys meant for those to be a gift to the Elves.”

  “Oh, I don’t doubt that. But he gave us quite a few. Doubt anyone will notice if one or two go missing.”

  Without warning, William brought Eira to a gallop and raced past Baldric. Although he doubted his horse could out run Aderyn, he figured the false start couldn’t hurt.

  Not but a few seconds later, he heard the mounting pace of Baldric’s horse closing in. He squeezed his legs, urging Eira to run faster—but it was no use. Baldric and Aderyn darted ahead of them like leaves caught in a strong wind. There was no disappointment in knowing he’d lost, for it was during that moment that William finally understood the true joy of riding. With the wind in his hair and the reins gripped tight, he found himself appreciating yet another dryfoot luxury. He continued pushing Eira as much as he could, long after the race was decided. Novice rider or not, he refused to let his inexperience get in the way.

  Ironically enough, the valley’s end came unnoticed. Suddenly, he found himself galloping out across vast plains of green. His eyes landed on lush grasslands dusted with patches of wildflowers in every direction. As he raced forward, the land sloped downward and the beauty that caught him off guard widened furthermore. It was a view worth marvelling at. There were no roads or paths in sight, nor were there any towns or man-made structures of any kind. Just as he spotted Baldric riding back towards him, a band of wild horses came into view.

  “This is known as the Hidden Plains. Refreshing, isn’t it?” Baldric said joyously. “I may have won the race, but you surprised me back there. I never would have thought a seafarer could ride a horse so well. Looks like we’ll be sharing those ales after all,” he said with a smirk.

  William nodded. “Not bad for my first time, eh? It’s not so hard once you get the hang of it. I can’t take all the credit though. Eira here has a gentle heart. I’m sure most horses would have no problem bucking me off.”