***
It took two more weeks to get to Vallis, and every night when they stopped, she trained for an hour with Sol on simple incantations and another hour with Tomaz with sword. She was wearing pants and ruffled shirt tucked in, black boots no longer shiny after a weeks ride.
She was practicing her swordplay now, the sun having just set, the sky glowing a hazy muted orange under the gray cloud cover. Melenthia was able to keep up with the elf, but after an hour of non-stop fighting, and the other hour of mental concentration on her spells, she was tired. So tired, that despite the hard and cold ground, she usually slept deep and had to be roused when morning came.
Her and the elf were kicking up the dirt, swords clanking together, echoing in the cold night air. Tomaz would come in for a strike; Melenthia would parry it, Tomaz reacting quickly with another overhead swing.
Sol prepared the dinner for tonight, cooking a stew prepared from dried flowers and vegatables, with spices that Tomaz had gathered from the forest. Elves did not eat meat. Since they considered all living things to be related to them, they considered it disrespectful to eat their kin. He did not, however, forbid her or Sol to eat it, but out of respect for him, they opted to leave it out. Even though it was nothing but vegatables and spices, it smelled good. The aroma wafted to her nostrils several times, making her stomach growl.
She had mastered two spells already: lighting the fire without tinder, which Sol told her was really for learning simple words and meaning, and levitation, which was to learn control. He doubted either of these would be used when she faced Fallon, but they would prepare her for the more complex spells she would learn in the coming year.
After she and Tomaz were done, they sat down on the ground, breathing hard and sweaty. No winner this night. He conceded so that she could eat and rest.
She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow and blew out a breath. “That was more tiring for some reason tonight.”
“Have you been doing your breathing exercises before your sparring?” Sol asked her, looking over his pipe at her.
“I know how to breathe, Sol. I learned that when I first learned to use a sword, and I was only seven years old then.”
“Is your mind clear?”
She didn’t look him in the eye, and for that he knew the answer.
“I told you that you can’t have anything occupying your head when you go into a spar. Your body can’t concentrate on what your body is trying to do if your mind is cluttered.”
“I try, but I can’t keep it empty for long.”
“You miss him, we understand that, Melenthia, and we don’t expect you to never think about him, only when you’re studying. He’ll do what is needed of him; you’ll do what’s needed of you. Apart you will be doing different things; together you will be fighting the same fight. You’ll be by his side again, but, for now, you must put him aside. You can’t fight Fallon if you’re worried about other people.”
“How can I not worry about those I love? I will be fighting Fallon to save those people that I love, the kingdom that I love. How can I be fighting for that if those people I’m protecting are not in my thoughts?”
“They’re also in your heart, Melenthia. That is where you must put them until this is over. You must only have one thought occupying your mind, and that is destroying Fallon and his army.”
She sighed. He looked at her with affection. “This is one of the reasons you were chosen for this path, Melenthia, because of your passion for your kingdom and the people that you love. You were chosen because you have a big heart as well as a strong mind.”
She looked up at him but did not answer. He smiled kindly at her. “You will get it. Eventually, you’ll be able to focus without even trying. Now get something in your stomach and get some rest. We’re only a day and a half from Vallis now.”
“Really? How do you know that? Every part of the forest we’ve ridden through looks identical.”
Tomaz answered now. “It is something I sense. I am one with the forest, all of our people are, so when we are close to our home, we can feel it.”
“You mean the forest talks to you?”
“Of a sorts. We can hear them whisper to us in our soul, and we know when we are among our people. The elves and the landscape are one.”
She glanced at him between bites of food and frowned.
“I know that visitors are rarely invited into Vallis. Is there going to be feelings of nervousness toward me?”
“No. We have waited for you for five hundred years. When my people got word that you had been born, they prepared for your coming of age. We have been preparing for your arrival into our city for twenty-one years. Every elf knows of your existence, and everyone is anxious to finally meet you.”
“I don’t like feeling like some grand person, someone to put on display. I’m ordinary, and I like it that way.”
Sol and Tomaz glanced at each other, Sol smiling behind his pipe. “You’re certainly not ordinary, but elves don’t take much stock in adoration or idolatry. They will treat you with respect only. The only preference you’ll get while there is that you may wander through the city unescorted, and you will feel welcome. You’re important to everyone, Melenthia, and the sooner you accept that fact, the faster you’ll learn your place. You can’t escape what you are or why you’re here; it’s your destiny.”
She sighed. She looked down and realized that she had eaten all the food in her bowl.
“We don’t expect you to accept your purpose immediately. In time you’ll feel your inner power and be able to understand your place. Give it time, but remember what I said. You must put your brother and the king in your heart and not let them invade your thoughts. There will be enough to clutter your mind; there will be no room for them there.”
“I’ll try harder.”
Sol smiled and touched her shoulder. “Things will work out as they should. Kevaan and Dain know their place. You will soon know yours. It’ll get easier in time. Now get some rest. Tomorrow we will see Vallis.”
She pushed her bowl aside and crawled over to the warm soft nest of blankets that had kept her cocooned for the last two weeks and laid down, pulling the top one over her. She curled up in a ball and closed her eyes. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, and even though she told herself she could push Dain out of her dreams, he appeared there nonetheless.
Tomorrow would be another day. She would try harder then to escape the hold he had on her. For the time being, she would have to lock him away into her heart. If she was to save him, save them all, she had to do what the elf and magician told her to do. Reluctantly, she looked upon his face once more, then shook him away and slept deep, mind clear, heart full.
CHAPTER 32
A thin figure galloped down the road, his small frame leaning forward in the saddle, face close to the horses neck. The sun was starting to sink low in the sky, and the night chills were setting in. The wan daylight of the last couple of weeks had Maddon thinking that perhaps the darkness had already begun taking over, that time had already run out. He didn’t want to think that, so he tried to be positive, but the conversations in the taverns the last week gave him reasons to doubt. His city had not been the only lamb to the slaughter. Several cities all the way up toward the north had fallen victim to Fallon and his army of death.
Word reached the small hamlet of Lakendra that the Triple Cities had been overtaken, the border now in the hands of Fallon’s generals. He had yet to march into Kingswell, but he knew it would be only a matter of time. Time had run out.He cursed under his breath. That devil had done too much already, and he seemed to be getting bolder with each strike. Maddon had no doubts that he would march into Kingswell in the light of day or try to breach King Dain’s city right under his nose. He was supposed to give message to General Thorne about what was happening, but maybe they already knew. Maybe he was getting to Pembroke too late, and the news had already spread. Once he reached Alban Thorne in Pembroke, he would know.
He would not let them
push him aside. He would not sit this one out. He would fight in this war beside the rest of the men. He owed his grandfather that much.
As he got closer to Pembroke, and the sun was just making that dull glow on the horizon meaning dusk, he could see down the hill the twinkling lights of the town. He could smell the scent of wood smoke rising out of the chimneys.
Alban Thorne’s garrison headquarters was on the far side of town, closer to the coast, and he wanted to be there not too long after dark.
He was amazed that in the week that it took him to ride from Amaris, he didn’t run into any of Fallon’s soldiers. He had suspected that Fallon’s army would be crossing the terrain and was confused as to why he hadn’t seen any signs of them.
He feared that maybe they were holed up in the Triple Cities waiting for the reinforcements to ride from Boones Ferry. Fallon would more than likely use the time to outfit his remaining troops and go over the battle plan now that the border was breached.
Maddon frowned. He hoped that he wasn’t too late, that the troops Fallon was waiting on had not already landed in Boones Ferry. He hoped that he was getting to Alban fast enough to warn them and prepare them for battle on this end of the province. If Fallon had already taken over the border, then his warning could be too late. He prayed to the God of war that they still had time.
He rode toward town, passing by the small farms that were spread across the hilly landscape. Corn and wheat and barley still seemed to be prospering, the reaping time upon them soon. He could smell a mix of rich soil and fertilizer and heard the sound of cattle lowing somewhere in the distance.
He reached town about a half hour after dark and took the main cobbled street through it, toward the northeast gate. After he passed the market square he came upon a small inn, the light glowing softly through the dingy front window. Woodsmoke billowed out the chimney into the chilly night air. He dismounted his horse and flung his supply bag over his shoulder.
He opened the tavern door and inconspicuously looked over the room, making note of the people around him. He did a quick survey and didn’t notice any guards in Rommel livery. He went over to the barman and got his attention.
“Pardon me, friend, but could you tell me how to reach General Thorne?”
The barman looked suspiciously at the youth, taking a survey of his own, trying to guess what his intentions might be. “What would ye want with ole Alban?”
“I bring message from Amaris.”
The barman rubbed his stubbled chin. His fat jowls were squeezed by the too tight collar of his linen shirt, and his beady eyes squinted at him from under shaggy eyebrows.
“Word is Amaris was destroyed.”
“That’s correct. It was my city, but no longer. There are only a few of us left. I have information. I need to get to Alban.” He pulled a coin out of his pocket and slid it across the bar. The barman picked it up and pocketed it into his apron.
“I think I can find someone who can get to him. The garrison walls are heavily guarded though, not many get through.”
“As well they should be; the menace is coming.”
“Aye, that it is. I don’t reckon any of us is safe anymore. It’s fight or follow from what I’ve heard.”
“You’ve heard right. I saw many a neighbor follow out of fear. Not many are brave enough to fight. I have word for Alban of what is coming. I need to see him in haste.”
The barman nodded to him, wiped his hands on his apron and motioned him to follow. He led Maddon over to the corner where a rickety table was occupied with one man. He was leaned over a half drunk mug of something, and he was hooded. The barman touched his shoulder and the man looked up but said nothing. The barman hitched his head quickly to the side in Maddon’s direction. “This lad needs to get into Thorne’s garrison. Can you take him?”
The hooded man looked in Maddon’s direction now and nodded. “He’ll make sure you get inside the garrison.” He left, and Maddon stood in front of the table, looking down at the hooded man. He motioned for Maddon to sit. Maddon pulled up a chair and sat down, his bag still across his back. The stranger finally pulled the hood from his head and looked closely at Maddon.
He was grizzled, with longish black hair which looked as if it had been trimmed with a knife, and black mustache that hung long on each side. He had a scar on his chin, as well as one on his cheek. His brown eyes were sharp, his hawk nose pointed and narrow. He didn’t scowl, but his mouth held a permanent droop on either side. He regarded Maddon with those piercing eyes, and Maddon shifted in his chair a bit. When the man spoke, however, Maddon was surprised at the lilt in his voice and the soft cadence of his tone.
“What do ya want with Alban Thorne and his garrison?”
“I bring message from Amaris.”
The stranger rubbed his chin. “Alban is a suspicious man and does not take kindly to strangers dropping in. Why don’t you give me the message, and I will take it to him.”
“I have been instructed to give the message only to General Thorne himself.”
“I could torture you for it.”
“You could, but I doubt you’d succeed.”
The man looked amused. “You think you could withstand torture in order to hold on to a message?”
“I have seen the giants come through my city and kill all who were too weak or unable to fight. I have seen unnamable creatures savagely kill everyone I know. I have fought four giants with my bare hands. I can withstand more than you think. I have been dispatched here with a message for Alban. I will deliver it, or it dies with me.”
The stranger was impressed and sat up in his chair. “What’s yur name, boy?”
Maddon stared at the man, then decided his name wasn’t pertinent. “Maddon Ellbert.”
The man’s face changed. He looked off into nothing, his expression one of recognition. “Any relation to Nalo Ellbert?”
He was surprised that his grandfathers name was so widespread. “He was my grandfather.”
“Well I’ll be.” He looked over his shoulder and yelled to the barman. “Cado, bring this boy some spiced ale to warm his veins.”
The barman nodded and immediately poured a glass of steaming liquid into a mug. He carried it over to the table and set it in front of Maddon.
“Thank you.” He reached into his pocket to get a coin, but the grizzled man shook his head.
“It’s on me. Any relative of Nalo is a friend of mine.”
Maddon took a swig of the dark hued steaming liquid and coughed a bit after swallowing. The man laughed and patted him on the back.
“Goes down smooth, don’t it?”
Maddon just nodded and took another pull on his drink.
The stranger patted the table. “You finish that, and I’ll take you to ole Alban. It’s after supper, and he’s probably relaxing his old bones by the fire, but we’ll just rouse him.” He looked Maddon over again. “Did you ride here from Amaris all by yourself?”
“Yes. I was enlisted to carry the message. I was the only one left in the city capable of surviving the ride, or the road. I spent quite some time on the back roads, until I heard the wailings of the undead. I changed course after that.”
“The creatures are making their way this direction are they?”
“It seems so. Unless they are just the spies for the lord, keeping track of the coming and going of travelers. I suspect traveling is going to become more hazardous soon. Bandits and cutthroats will be a relief compared to what’s coming.”
“We’d better get you to Alban then.” Maddon finished off his drink. The man put three coins on the table, then stood. “Come on then, let’s be movin’.”
Maddon stood too and readjusted his sack on his back. They strode through the tavern and out the front door. They went to the hitch posts and untied their mounts. The man put out his hand to Maddon, and Maddon took it, shaking. “Name’s Jedd, Jedd Porter. I’m a Bounty Hunter.”
“For the king?”
“No, private.” He swung up into t
he saddle and they started off. “I like having the freedom to take the jobs I want. I do some work for Alban occasionally. He’s tried many times to enlist me in his guard, but that life ain’t for me. Although, things have been tight lately, and the jobs are scarce. I may just have to take him up on his offer one of these days if things don’t get better. Fallon is bad for local business.”
“He’s not good for any business, local or otherwise, and he’s getting worse. The news I bring is not pleasant.”
“I reckon. Not if you rode all this way. Can you tell me who sent you?”
Maddon looked at the man and decided that who sent him was not pertinent enough information either. “Alekzander Morgan.”
“Alek? How’s that ole dog anyway?”
“He’s got a lot of responsibilities on his hands. He helped evacuate Amaris and then sent me here with the message. He needed to get back to the king.”
“Yes, I reckon the king will have quite a few problems to deal with soon.”
“He already does, and it’s only going to get worse.”
“Well let’s not tarry then.” He rubbed his chin again, this time with a gloved hand. “Did Alek give you admittance guarantee?”
“Yes, I have a way to ensure that I am who I say and who sent me. It’s a code that only Alban and Alek know.”
“He never misses a trick that one. I’ve known Alek a long time.”
They rode on for another twenty minutes, the stars visible in only patches of clear sky. The heavy clouds had been building for days. The cold night air caused Maddon to shiver under his thin cloak, and his fingers were numb from the ride. The spiced ale had helped to warm his insides for only a short while, but the cold winter air was starting to seep in again. It was a strange cold, not quite wintery with its common blustery winds and snow. It was more eerie, like a darkness and cold you could feel more in your soul than on your skin.
He remembered reading about dark times such as these, with strange happenings that could not be explained and people cowering from it. He didn’t think he would ever see such bizarre happenings in his lifetime, but here it was just the same.
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