Things Unseen: (An epic fantasy adventure series) (The Caris Chronicles Book 1)

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Things Unseen: (An epic fantasy adventure series) (The Caris Chronicles Book 1) Page 21

by Melina Grace


  “I have company,” Amarin called back.

  “Come in.”

  Amarin ushered Caris into the next room. Within, was one of the most beautiful young women Caris had ever seen, except that she’s not a woman, she’s an elf. It’s so strange that her large pointy ears and wide eyes seem to enhance her beauty.

  “The seer!” Jeniel exclaimed, rising and walking over to greet Caris with a big smile.

  “Sorry, the what?” Caris looked at Amarin in puzzlement.

  “Perhaps you have another name for it, you know, people who can see the future?” said Jeniel.

  Caris continued to look puzzled. Finally, she said with a small smile, “I think I must have missed part of the conversation.”

  Now it was Jeniel’s turn to look at Amarin puzzled.

  “I do not think now is the best time for this conversation. We are going to see Caris’ friend. She has been worried about him, and doesn’t trust me that we are looking after him.” Amarin said.

  “No!” Caris began to protest, flustered.

  “Peace, I was only teasing you.” Amarin laughed, resting a placating hand on Caris’ arm.

  Amarin led Caris through Jeniel’s room and out onto the branch that held Crispin’s small hut. Caris followed, forgotten for the moment were Jeniel’s strange comments on people being able to see the future. As they neared another hut, Caris spoke up “I do hate to intrude on so many people, just because I am afraid of a rope bridge.”

  “Nonsense,” Amarin replied, “It takes a long time for land people to get a head for heights. I would rather you learn gradually and wait until your head is fully recovered, than have you undo all my hard work by falling. Besides, everybody wants to meet you,” she finished simply. “Colden,” she called out.

  “I’m within,” came the reply.

  Caris followed Amarin into a room similar to her working rooms. Three walls were lined with row upon row of ointments and powders, but as she turned to the fourth, she saw it was covered with parchments. Caris had never seen more than two parchments together and if she counted all the parchments she had seen in her life they would not have added up to a fraction of the ones lining Colden’s wall. She stared, in awe, at the shelves and wondered at the wealth and knowledge of the man who owned them all.

  “Do you like to read?” Colden asked.

  “I have learnt how but have never read much,” Caris confessed. Realising her rudeness, she dragged her eyes from the parchments and turned toward Colden. She found it hard to look him in the eyes. Never before had she felt so intimidated by someone. She stared at his chest, at a loss as to what else to say.

  “I expect you’re eager to see your friend?” he said pleasantly.

  “Yes please.” Caris mumbled.

  “I was just about to check on him myself,” he said, leading them through his second room and out the other side. “Jarla has been sitting with him; he is my apprentice, very capable. Your friend was running a very high temperature for his first couple of days here, but it is mostly under control now. Jarla has been watching over him to make sure he doesn’t take a turn for the worse.”

  “Thank you,” Caris replied, not sure of what else to say. They neared Crispin’s room and Caris took a deep breath, fearful of what she might find within. She stepped inside and a strong smell of herbs and unguents greeted her, despite the door and window flaps having been tied back.

  Jarla sat by Crispin’s side, holding a damp cloth to his forehead.

  “How does he?” Colden asked.

  “Not much change. Sometimes he grows a little hot but a cold cloth cools him soon enough.”

  “Hmm,” Colden grunted in reply.

  Caris noticed in dismay that Crispin’s entire stomach and chest were wrapped with bandages. She watched as Colden loosened them and peered underneath.

  “The wound is doing well. He has a strong spirit and I believe he will recover well,” said Colden.

  “What happened to him?” asked Caris.

  “A geboath pulled him from his saddle, his claws sliced deep wounds across his torso. They are not very clean creatures, I am afraid, and infection is always a danger with geboath cuts, but the scouts got him to me quickly and we were able to clean the wound before it became putrid. I had much work to sew the cuts back together, but fortunately, they didn’t damage any internal organs. His body went into shock from the pain, but he should mend well.” Colden said with an encouraging smile that was lost on Caris who was staring at Crispin’s white pallor.

  “What is your friend’s name?” Colden asked.

  “Crispin,” Caris murmured, as she moved over to the spot Jarla had vacated for her.

  “It is helpful to know a patient’s name.” Colden said cryptically, but Caris was not listening. She took Crispin’s hand in her own as an old and familiar sense of shame engulfed her. Finally, she collected herself enough to murmur a “thank you” to Colden and Jarla, but the three elves had already left her alone with Crispin.

  Tears flowed down Caris’ cheeks, “I’m so sorry Crispin; it’s all my fault. Why did I look away from The Singer? I knew not to, but I thought I could sate my curiosity and still be protected. I did this to you. Oh, why do I always fail those I love? I am so useless. I have ever been a burden to those around me, bringing trouble and contempt. I have hurt you so badly.

  Oh, please Crispin; you must live! The King will need you! The army and your friends will need you! So many people need you! I wish it could be me in your place. Why do I continue to live when those who have so much more to offer, die? Please live Crispin, please live.” Caris dropped her head to Crispin’s shoulder, sobbing.

  Eventually, her tears spent, Caris lifted her head, relieving the crick in her neck. She remained sitting beside him, holding tightly to his hand and willing him to heal until Jeniel came to collect her for their evening meal.

  She entered the room with a bright smile for Caris and walked straight over to inspect Crispin. She laid her hand gently on a small patch of unbandaged skin and stared at the wall. Caris waited for her to speak but Jeniel was silent, her eyes glassed over and head inclined, as if she was listening to something. Finally, she turned to Caris with a small smile. “He is improving rapidly, he is not completely out of danger, but he is healing much quicker than I would’ve expected him to do after such a wound.” Jeniel looked at Crispin’s face. “His colour is returning; you have done him good already.”

  Caris looked back to Crispin and was surprised to see his colour had returned. Tears pricked her eyes, and she took a deep breath as hope filled her. Willing herself not to start crying again, Caris leant down and gave Crispin a small kiss on his cheek. “I’ll be back soon,” she whispered, then turned and led Jeniel from the room.

  Caris was glad to have Jeniel behind her so she couldn’t see her face. She used the twenty paces to Colden’s rooms to calm her emotions. She didn’t really feel like company and wished she could continue to sit alone with Crispin, but these elves had done so much for her and Crispin; she owed them, both their lives.

  She reached Colden’s door before turning embarrassed to Jeniel with the realisation she didn’t know where she was going. “I’m sorry Jeniel, I’m just so worried about Crispin, I’m not thinking straight. Please forgive my rudeness.”

  “No apologies necessary, let me see if I’ve got this straight – in the last few days you’ve travelled through the enchanted forest, met The Singer, been attacked by geboaths, woken high in the trees in the care of strange but lovely,” she said with a playful smile, “elves, and found your friend recovering from near death. I should be very much surprised if you did have all your thoughts collected.”

  Caris smiled at her, “It does sound like a lot, when you list it like that. I haven’t really thought about it. Thank you for your understanding,” she said, feeling some of the tension draining from her shoulders.

  Jeniel led Caris through Colden’s rooms. “Colden is already on the platform. He can go for days without
remembering to eat when he is studying something new, but when he decides he’s hungry the food cannot come soon enough and he’s quite tetchy until he gets it!” she laughed.

  “The platform?” Caris asked, trying to hide the nervousness in her voice.

  Jeniel gave her an encouraging smile, “We judged it best you not attempt the climb down and back yet. Your balance is unlikely fully restored and the exertion would not be the best thing for you so early in your recovery. So, you will have to wait to discover the joy of our usual evening meal. For tonight, a few of us will meet on our open air platform.” She gestured up to a large wooden platform that was only twenty paces away, if only I had wings, Caris thought.

  Jeniel led Caris through her room and out a door into a small space between hers and another room. There were narrow stairs winding up and around the tree, “we’ve strung a rope for this small distance to make it easier for you,” Jeniel said, “but I think it best if you go first so I can help to steady you if need be.”

  Caris began climbing the stairs easily and wondered what all the fuss was about. The stairs were narrow but they were after all stairs, not a wobbling rope bridge suspended over nothing. They must have low opinions of humans if they think we can’t climb stairs, Caris thought in amusement.

  It wasn’t until she had done almost a full circuit of the ten pace wide trunk and gained a bit of height on the rooms below, that Caris noticed how high she was. Her breath caught in her throat and she came to a complete stop.

  “This is the tricky bit,” said Jeniel, and Caris looked up to discover that to get to the platform she needed to walk along a branch only half a pace wide. Someone had strung two ropes at waist height either side of the flat branch and though Caris was grateful for the thought, she sincerely wished they were wooden rails. She stood with her back pressed against the tree, staring at the two paces of thin branch and the great expanse of nothing below. Caris kept telling herself it was only two paces but she knew she was never taking steps that large up here. It might as well be a hundred.

  “Caris.” A gentle voice forced her to raise her eyes from the branch. Amarin was standing just in front of her with hands stretched out to take Caris’. Caris didn’t want to take her hands. If she took Amarin’s hands, the elf would pull her across. She locked eyes with Amarin and forced herself to peel her palms from the trunk, they were pressed against, placing them in Amarin’s.

  “I’ll be just behind you Caris,” Jeniel said with happy confidence, “And don’t worry, we’re much stronger than we look, one of us could hold you up easily. With two of us to catch you, we’ll probably forget to put you down again, you’ll be so light.”

  “Jeniel.” Amarin reprimanded her gently.

  “Oh, you don’t want me to talk about us having to catch Caris if she falls?” Jeniel continued to tease Caris.

  Amarin rolled her eyes and gently pulled Caris, urging her forward. Taking a deep breath, Caris took a step without even checking that the branch was still in the right place. She sighed in relief as her foot landed on the sturdy path, and then quickly took two more large steps onto the platform, pushing Amarin backwards.

  Caris made a beeline for the centre of the platform, barely hearing the congratulations from Amarin and Jeniel. She sat down quickly, as close to the food laid out in the middle as she could get, forcing an elf to pull his sprawling legs out of the way.

  Once seated, Caris quickly recovered from her fear and was able to look back at Jeniel with a self-deprecating smile. Jeniel was laughing at her hurried seating and the elf she had displaced. Caris looked around to apologise and was mortified to discover it was Colden, who sat happily eating and smiling at her in amusement.

  “You’ll have to excuse Colden for starting to eat early. I could say most, but I’ll say all other elves have better manners,” Amarin said as she sat down on the other side of the food and started unwrapping cheese from some large leaves.”

  “You’re the one who handed the food to me!”

  “Because none of us wanted to put up with your bad mood anymore!”

  “I wasn’t in a bad mood,” Colden grinned at her.

  “He’s amazing,” Amarin said, looking at Caris, “Three mouthfuls and he’s back to his usual happy self.”

  “I’m sorry, have I held everyone up?” Caris asked.

  “No, there’s more to come,” Colden said happily.

  “Caris, this is my husband, Anuka,” said Amarin. A tall lean man with white blonde hair stepped forward from the edge of the platform. Caris straightened in surprise. She had not noticed him there.

  “I am pleased to meet you,” Anuka said, with a slight inclination of his head. He didn’t smile, but his eyes danced with merriment and Caris thought he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

  “I-I’m pleased to meet you too,” Caris stammered, before dragging her eyes away and aiming them at the food.

  “Don’t worry he has that affect on every one,” said Jeniel dryly.

  Caris felt herself go red and stole another look at Amarin. Amarin was smiling in adoration at her husband and when Caris looked at him, she saw he returned her deep affection. Caris thought they mustn’t have been married long.

  Jeniel sat down beside her. “I hear you have an interest in the healing properties of herbs and plants?”

  “I do,” Caris said, thankful for the distraction. “There were many on Amarin’s and Colden’s shelves I didn’t recognise, I would love to learn more.”

  “Good, perhaps we can gather together while you are here and share our knowledge.”

  Caris remembered Jeniel’s inspection of Crispin. “Are you a healer too?”

  “Jeniel will be the greatest healer we have known in a long time,” Colden said. Caris looked at Jeniel who inclined her head slightly, accepting the praise quietly.

  The sound of a child’s excited chattering came toward them from the stairs and as Caris turned to look, a young boy ran across the branch and onto the platform.

  “Finally!” Colden called out good-naturedly to the couple who followed behind the boy.

  “I see you have started without us again Colden,” a male elf responded.

  “It is Amarin’s fault,” he replied.

  “Hello,” the female elf said, walking straight to Caris. “I am Cyntheta; I am Amarin’s younger sister. My husband Elan,” she said, gesturing to the elf who stood behind her smiling at Caris, “And my son Rodrin,” she finished with obvious pride. She tore her affectionate gaze away from her son who was turning cartwheels around the platform and smiled at Caris, “I am pleased to meet you.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you too; everyone here is so friendly and welcoming.”

  “We don’t get many visitors. It is always a pleasure to hear stories from outside, and a particular honour to welcome a...” she paused as if rethinking what she was going to say and finished by saying, “...member of The King’s Horse and his companion.”

  “You know of The King?”

  “Of course, doesn’t everyone know The King?”

  “My experience is so limited, I do not know. I come from a village to the north and apart from the small band of King’s Horse who I travelled with and a couple of villages; I have met no one else.”

  “So, how do you find yourself here, so far from The King’s road with only one travelling companion?” Elan asked in interest.

  “A story! Let us hear your story!” Colden exclaimed in excitement.

  “Yes!” Rodrin called out, running to join the circle.

  “Food first!” Amarin interrupted. “She is still recovering from a head wound, do not badger her! There will be plenty of time for stories over the next seven-day.”

  “I thank you for your generous hospitality but I fear we will not be able to stay that long. The King is at war and we are on our way to meet with him at the frontline.”

  “I am afraid that your friend will not be fit to travel in less than a seven-day, and possibly much longer,” Colden to
ld her gently.

  “Oh, of course.” Caris looked down, ashamed that she had momentarily forgotten the severity of Crispin’s wounds. “Yes, we should eat. I don’t like to leave Crispin alone too long.”

  “Jarla sits with him. He is gifted and will take good care of him,” said Amarin.

  Caris nodded and contented herself by looking over to Crispin’s room, which was only forty paces away, if I had wings. At least we will hear if Jarla needs to call for help. Not that I could do anything for him, but there are three healers here, and they seem to know what they are doing. Caris stared around the small circle in amazement. Her village did not have one healer, and hadn’t done for generations. Everyone always spoke longingly of the towns that had a healer, but here are three! And another is close by, tending Crispin.

  “Are all elves healers?” she asked, as the idea occurred to her.

  They laughed in reply. “No, just the first four you met,” said Jeniel.

  “This is a lot, even for elves. It is more usual for us to have one healer and their apprentice. We have been particularly blessed, to have so many at the same time,” said Colden.

  “Yes, though we wonder if there is a reason for such a great blessing,” Amarin said sombrely. Caris thought the look she gave Jeniel was full of apprehension and concern.

  “Every great blessing comes with great responsibility,” Jeniel said happily and reached over to grab some food. “Eat,” she said to Caris, and with that, everyone began to help themselves to food.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Janen, Syngar, and Kalen galloped out from under the trees. The broken grass giving a clear indication of the direction the lost ones had taken. Prince stretched his legs, relishing the freedom from the ever-encroaching brush. Janen allowed the stallion to have his head and he surged forward leaving the others behind.

  He let his horse run for a while, but well before Prince had begun to tire, Janen pulled him back to a canter, allowing Kalen and Syngar to catch up. They pushed the horses hard for the rest of the day and into the evening. The moon was full and it was not difficult to follow the path left by the lost ones.

 

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