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Lost Souls

Page 8

by John Van Stry


  "I've already begged her to be my mate, she said to wait." He growled.

  "Well, what female takes to begging? She doesn't want you to take her out of pity."

  "It's not pity," he sighed, "I was planning on asking her when we got back. I shouldn't have waited."

  "Yes, I told you something along those lines, didn't I?"

  "Rub it in why don't you?"

  "Well, like I said before, I'm the one who bears the blame and the responsibility. I should have realized that anything that got my sentence lifted would be serious, that we'd be facing opposition. Especially after what happened in Merrick. All I can do now is not make the same mistake twice."

  "You're not in charge here." He said turning to face me fully.

  "No, and that's my fault too, for not taking over." I stared him down, "Whatever game is playing itself out here, it started on my watch, and apparently I must be there for the end. That means it falls to me to deal with it."

  I smiled suddenly, "Besides, until she agrees to mate, you can't claim revenge, but I'm family, and I already have."

  "They were right; you can be an annoying and smug ass." He growled.

  "Comes with the territory. Don't worry; I'm sure you'll learn in time to do it yourself."

  He snorted.

  I stuck out my arm, "I trust you, and I respect your abilities as well as your intentions towards my sister. Friends?"

  He nodded and clasped arms with me. "Friends."

  "Good, and oh, if you don't take my sister I'm going to have to hurt you something awful."

  "Why am I not surprised?"

  "Don't worry, if she turns you down again, I just may hurt her too," I grinned.

  Tam and Jenna showed up then, Jenna leaning heavily on Tam's arm. She was still weak, I wished we could stay longer, but I could see Clint was itching to go, and none of us could bear to leave her behind.

  "And what are you two planning," Jenna asked.

  "Your mating ceremony," I smiled and she shot me a pained look.

  "I think I'm still a bit too weak to deal with that," she sighed.

  "Keep a male chasing your tail, and when you fall he'll roll you like a ball," I quoted an old cubs rhyme.

  "Into his den which he'll then defend, keeping you from dangers thick and thin." She grinned, "Yes I guess that does sort of fit."

  "Of course it does. Now, let's get out of here."

  The ride out of Midway was a lot more relaxed than the ride in had been. All the wagons were being escorted and patrols were being sent everywhere. The local garrison commander was the cautious sort, and didn't want to find out that the recent attacks were the advance of something even worse. As I wanted the escort I didn’t feel like telling him what I thought was really going on.

  As for Midway itself, I didn't see much beyond the room I was in and the stables when we left. There was a rather large garrison there it turned out. As for the teamsters, I did get to visit them before I left. Both were grateful for our not leaving them there to die. I felt guilty about their gratitude. I gave them what money I had left on me, even though they protested, telling them only that I wanted to be sure my rescue wasn't in vain because they couldn't take the time to heal properly. It did little to assuage my guilt, but there wasn't anything else I could do.

  The one positive part of the trip to Portsmith was Jenna and Clint. She let him hold her the entire trip there, and didn't look pained about it once.

  When we finally rode into Portsmith, Clint talked the wagon driver into taking us straight to the docks. I had to admit that winding through the streets in the cart was a lot easier than walking it would have been. Portsmith was a fairly large city and the trip to the docks from the gates was a long one. When we finally got there, I noticed there was an elven ship tied up to them looking ready to sail.

  "You're kidding," I said looking at Clint.

  "No, that one's for us."

  "You've had a ship waiting here for us all this time?" I blinked, elven ships were expensive, and to keep one waiting what was now probably three months was shocking.

  "Actually, I think they've only been back here about a week or two," He confessed. "The captain didn't want to draw too much attention by sitting in port until we got back."

  I nodded as we thanked the wagon drivers and went up the gangplank. As soon as we were aboard the crew began to make the ship ready for sail. We were shown to our cabins, and settled in to sleep. Clint said he had business to discuss with the captain and I was still very tired from healing, so I accompanied Jenna to her room, and curled up on the bed with her.

  "Ha," she sighed, "Here I've been chasing him for two years and I finally got him where I wanted him because I was too slow to jump, and I'm a total wreck and I look like crap."

  "Hey, whatever works." I grinned.

  "Yeah, but will he still want me when I'm healed? I had the devil's own time getting him into my bed when I was lovely. Now that I'm not ..." She started to cry softly.

  "Who says you're not?" I asked.

  "You're my brother; you're supposed to say that." She sniffed.

  "Ever think that maybe he had a hard time believing that someone beautiful like you could be interested in him?"

  She sniffed, "Now you sound like Mom."

  "Well, she got Dad, didn't she?"

  "Yeah well, I don't know what to think."

  "Trust me; you'll still be a beauty, scars and all. Besides, you're not an Elf; people expect Shreans to have a few scars."

  "Yeah but ...."

  "But nothing, you've been comparing yourself to Elves for too long."

  "This from a guy in love with one," She smiled, eyes still teary.

  "So I should know." I smiled, "I don't think you're gonna lose Clint. I think he's more worried about losing you."

  "You think?"

  I nodded. "Yeah, I think. Now go to sleep and get some rest. We've got a few more weeks till shore and we both need to do a lot of healing yet."

  She nodded and hugged me close. I felt the ship give a lurch then as they finally cast off.

  A surge of feelings and emotions hit me then; it still took my breath away.

  Home.

  I was finally going home.

  Elsewhere

  She sighed as she dismounted from the horse, handed the reins over to the groom, and turned towards the door. The last week had been a welcome relief. No dreams beyond the normal nightmares that she had become accustomed to years ago. It was ironic to think about it, that she could welcome the nightmares as an improvement, a change for the better. But then those nightmares were a known commodity, while these other dreams represented an unknown, and in these times, it was the unknowns that were to be feared.

  They disturbed her because she didn't know where they came from or what caused them, though she had a deep down feeling that she should know, that there was something lost, something missing from her world, something she was now somehow diminished by the lack thereof. That these dreams were somehow a reflection of, or a connection to, that which she had lost.

  Worse yet, it was distracting her to the point of obsession, no longer just effecting her sleeping hours, or rather sleepless ones, but affecting her waking hours as well. These days she couldn't afford distractions, there was too much to be done, and her master’s demands had become exacting. She had to spend a good deal of time inspecting his servants and overseeing those things he could not care for himself now, along with her own duties and preparations.

  Fortunately, for almost a week there hadn't been any of those annoying dreams. She smiled, her face hidden deep in her long hood, as the guards opened the door for her and she headed up the stairs to her rooms. That they had apparently stopped so suddenly now seemed strange as well. It was if the dreams were the work of another party, and not just her own sordid subconscious. That the agent of the dreams was somehow distracted.

  She idly mused about that, what could house the power to give her disturbing dreams that even she could not recall
upon waking, yet suddenly be easily distracted from them? Usually something that powerful would continue in its course until it had achieved its goal. However, if those dreams had come from a being of power, she would have sensed it. Instead, they were more like something connected directly to her, but that in itself was impossible, because she wasn't connected to anything or anyone possessing that level of power.

  She had to admit that the odds were still much more likely that her own mind was the culprit here, caused by the stress of the situation as everything came closer and closer to their conclusion. She knew her master’s plans now; all of them, and things were drawing nearer to what he had planned for, with the end of the current miserable situation in sight.

  She smiled and had to admit to being rather happy about that, she'd given up so much to be here, sacrificed a great deal of privilege and personal comfort in the service of her master. She was still unsure as to the why of it, though not really why she had done her part of it. Yes she'd gained power from it, and would probably gain a great deal more as her master’s plans bore fruit. However, power had never held a great deal of attraction for her, revenge had actually been her motivation for being here; she had to admit that now.

  She frowned as she entered the sanctuary of her workroom; she had been wronged and wronged greatly. False witness, empty promises and pledges, all of it. She almost snarled her anger as she remember it, all of it, as she pulled down the potions she needed and started to work on recharging the wards once more, she had been used, and used in the one way a female could not bear. She had been promised that which she most wanted, told what she had most wanted to hear, only to find out that those promises were a hollow empty lie.

  Oh how she ached for revenge to bring low the one who had refused her, refuted her, used her. But that wasn't to be it seemed. They had long ago gone away and there was nothing she could do to change that.

  Her master at least had shown her other places to spend her anger, others who were also well deserving of the hate and anger that she now bore. Others who even had some culpability, no matter how small, and because their part was small, her revenge would just have to be so much greater to equalize the scales of justice and retribution in her mind. That was the one lesson her master had taught her that she hadn't minded learning, and he knew it well, having harbored his own anger at his own mistreatment for a great deal longer than hers.

  Yes, she barely felt bad about the mercenary she had murdered in her anger last week, or those guards who had been derelict in their duties. A year ago she wouldn’t have been able to do that, or not slept for weeks if she had. She was learning her master’s lessons well, she thought again with a momentary twinge of conscious, and briefly wondered once more if that was a good thing.

  Harbor - The Elsheval Haven

  After a full three week's worth of sailing and I was home.

  Home.

  Such a word.

  Such a place.

  I never thought I would ever see it again when I was sent off. Back then with a twenty-year sentence hanging over my head I wasn't sure I'd have ever wanted to come back when it was over. I had finally given up all hope of seeing it again in the last two years. I was almost surprised they had found me, almost. But the Elves always have their ways, as I had learned many times in my life before.

  Looking back, I was even more surprised that my resolve had folded so fast when my sister and her friends had shown up. Maybe in another ten years I wouldn't have wanted to return. Then again, I looked around and sighed, maybe I still would have.

  My sister had gained strength back with a vengeance once we were underway. The ship's doctor spent quite a bit of time with her and some with me as well. I felt almost whole again, and he did wonders with her, yes she'd be scared for life, including a mark down the left side of her face, but it barely subtracted from her beauty. All Elves have the heart of an artist; the healer was without a doubt one of the best.

  I gave him my gratitude, but he just smiled, "The healing came from within," He said, "There was truly little for me to do. The beauty of her soul can not be diminished by mere scars."

  And people wonder why I love Elves, even after all the things they put me through.

  I was up on the deck before dawn, standing in the bow as they came into view, the white spires of the queen's keep up among the cliffs above the forest. The colorful banners, the colorful houses in and around the trees. The shops down by the water where the boats were built. I stood there as we entered the harbor and just took it all in. I could have left yesterday, it seemed timeless.

  I didn't realize I was quietly crying until I heard a noise behind me. I took a few moments to regain my composure as Clint walked up beside me.

  "I lied when we first met."

  "Oh? How so?" I turned to look at him. He was looking at the city.

  "I didn't just come because I was ordered to, I wanted to see you. People still talk of you, you know. Your prowess, your victories, how well you served the queen. I wanted to meet you as an equal, not just some cub that held you in awe like so many others had. I wanted to make my own judgment"

  "And?"

  "You pass. You’ve weathered a life destroying storm better than any I’ve ever heard of, plus you didn’t send us off when we literally came begging for your help, hat in hand, after all that had been done to you.”

  I nodded, “Thanks. Anything else?”

  "Oh yeah, I'm the Captain of the Queen's Guard and Commander of her Army now."

  "I know, I confronted Tam about it weeks ago."

  He nodded to that and leaned against the railing watching me. "The council is afraid of something."

  I blinked leaning against the rail as well, watching the dock approach as the captain and crew deftly maneuvered the ship.

  "It has something to do with you. The oracle was supposed to have been quite clear on that I was told."

  I looked at the water flowing beneath the bow, as the ship slowed. "How is the queen?"

  "She is ..." he hesitated a moment, "well. She will not come down to the council meeting to see you when you arrive, she would not say why."

  I nodded. "The king?"

  "He sends his regards of course and will be there."

  "So what do they want me to do this time?" I tried not to sound bitter. I knew after all that had to be the reason I was back, they needed me.

  "I can not say. But they want me to ask if you'll do it anyway."

  "Are they giving me a choice?"

  "The queen said that 'All the choices would be yours'. Whatever that means."

  I sighed, and shook my head. "I have a terrible feeling that I have no choices in whatever fate they're about to send me off to. No choice at all."

  "There are always choices to be made, Jareth. I think you've already shown me that. You just have to pick the ones you can live with."

  "Or die with."

  "Yes, I guess there is that as well."

  I looked back at him again, thinking about what he had said. "So you used to hold me in awe then?" I chuckled and had a hard time reconciling him now with that young cub of then.

  He blushed and nodded.

  "You've come a long way. What happened?"

  "I defended your name to the other cubs when they started saying things about you, afterwards."

  "Ahh," I nodded, "That must have been painful."

  He smiled, and looked to the stern of the ship, where Jenna was standing with the captain. "It has not been without its rewards."

  I smiled back thinking about Jenna "I guess not."

  "Please don't make a liar out of me," he said softly.

  I stood up straight, and turned to face him as the boat finally came to a halt up against the dock. "Thank you."

  "For what?"

  "Your faith," I smiled, "your friendship. Being good for my sister. All of it. Tell the queen and king that I will bitch and moan up a storm at the council, to get my revenge on them, but I'll do it. Whatever it is they want me to do,
I will do it for them."

  He nodded and left.

  I walked straight from the boat to the council house. The trip up the main footpath was an interesting mix of nostalgia and pain. Very little had changed in the eight years I had been gone, but the few changes that I did see were reminders of what I had missed, another hole in my life. The Elshavel Haven is a beautiful city, there are very few streets such as you might find in a human city, only for those few places where heavy carts might regularly go, like to the docks and some of the shops. It was more of a conglomeration of footpaths, structures small and large that were artistically, if not at times randomly, interspersed. Gardens and trees were everywhere and the predominate color was that of green and summer. Winter never set foot in Elshavel, the magic of the elves and the great trees held sway here.

  For all the many people that lived here, it never seemed crowded. For all of the many hundreds of years, it never seemed old. I wanted to stay here for a while, reacquaint myself with the city, its places, and its people. I suppose I could have gone to my old room at my clan's house. Or visited some old friends. Or any number of things.

  But it's hard to enjoy such activities when it feels like the headsman's axe is hanging over your neck. Also, I was curious about what it was that was so important, what it was that only I could do.

  Moreover, the idea of storming into the Council's chambers and forcing them to all meet me there at the time of my choosing amused me.

  It turned out however, that I was not to be so easily amused. When I got there, I walked right in past the rather surprised guards to find the Council was already sitting in session. Most of them were surprised to see me there, so I guess I wasn't expected just yet. But from the sound of the debate, it was clear they already knew I was back. I guess I should have taken a carriage or borrowed a horse instead of walking. Such speed was uncharacteristic of the council and its members; they often took politicking to a high art.

  "The question is, can we trust what is basically 'damaged goods' with something as critical as this?" Councilman Dunburr was replying to another’s question about what I suspected was me as I stepped into the room. I remembered him; he was on the exile side of my last visit to this room. Rather strongly too. I had often wondered just what I had ever done to make him hate me so much, or if he had just inherited the dislike from Elantisfey, who he had always followed as slavishly as a dog followed its master.

 

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