by Ben Hale
“Of course it’s possible, but not too likely. I am fourth in age, behind my sisters, who are first and second, then one of the daughters of Keserian, and then me.”
Letting some mock disappointment show in his face, he grumbled, “Fine, I guess I will have to settle for a princess.” Then his expression turned serious as a thought occurred to him. “Why couldn’t you have vouched for me when we got to the city? Or at the river?”
She leaned back and furrowed her brow. “I wasn’t sure they would have known me, or remembered what I looked like. In either case, it’s been a long time since I have been home. I also didn’t have my emblem to show who I was—and with the way they were acting, I didn’t think it would have been enough proof anyway.”
He sighed, accepting her explanation and shaking his head at the memory of the hard faced elves.
Suddenly Taryn yawned and Liri smirked. “OK, that’s enough history. Now it’s your turn. How did you get in?” She leaned towards him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Taryn briefly shared the tale of how he’d climbed the cliff and escaped the elven sentries. At the point in the story where he knocked the elf into the river she interrupted, “You didn’t hurt any elves did you?”
“Of course not,” he responded and explained how he’d saved the elf's life. She calmed and relaxed, allowing him to continue, but when he told how he’d run down the cliff and jumped the waterfall she leaned back with an incredulous smile.
“Only you could ever think of something like that!” she exclaimed in open shock of his feat.
He shrugged in chagrin. “I almost didn’t make it.” He lifted up the torn sleeve to show her the bloody line on his shoulder where he’d almost been hit on the cliff top.
Her eyes sharpened and she leaned in. “Curse this fear,” she muttered, reaching out to touch the red line.
“Ouch,” he said, pulling back at the sting.
“Big baby,” she said airily. “It’s just a scratch.”
He grinned and showed her the cut on his hand. “True, but I received this at the hands of your guards outside.”
He caught a glimpse of her lip tightening as she stood and moved to the sink. Dabbing a piece of cloth in water, she returned and without meeting his gaze, began to clean the shallow wounds.
Although it stung, the water felt good against his open skin, but when he thanked her, she only murmured an apology.
“What do you have to apologize for?” Taryn asked. “You didn’t do it.”
She glanced up at him and he saw the guilt reflecting in her eyes. “I am sorry that you are hurt, that’s all.”
He laughed. “Like you said, it’s just a scratch. Not even worth a healer’s time.”
Her lips pulled into a grudging smile. “You’re probably right, baby.”
They laughed together and the tension eased. A moment later Liri added, “I still can’t believe how you got into the city.”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I guess I just saw an opening and took it.”
Her expression turned speculative. “You know . . . the reason no elf or human has ever climbed the Giant’s Shelf is because no elf or human has the strength or endurance to do something like that . . .”
She trailed off with one eyebrow raised and her head cocked to one side.
“Where did you get your strength from?” she voiced her question.
The silence in the kitchen stretched into several minutes as the two of them contemplated possibilities. Taryn’s chewing sounded loud, so he swallowed and shook his head—both to himself and to answer her question. He had no idea.
“Well, you have the hair and stamina of a dwarf,” she broke the silence with a smirk, “but I’m glad you don’t look like one.”
He laughed and the mood lightened, “Any more questions, or can I get some sleep?”Liri nodded and stood. “No, I think we are done for tonight. We can talk more tomorrow while I show you the city.”
Putting the dishes away, he turned around at her suggestion of a tour. “Will the city guard allow me to pass?”
“Sure, I will give you our house crest and you won’t be bothered.”
“Thanks, I appreciate your house’s protection . . . princess.”
She glared at him but couldn’t hold it for long and shook her head in exasperation. “OK, dwarf-man, let’s go find you a bed.”
He grinned broadly at her response, and followed her back into the maze of corridors, grateful for a safe place to sleep.
Chapter 14: Tallendale
Trin leaned on the rail of the Sea Dancer and looked at the approaching city of Tallendale. It had been less than a day since he'd watched Taryn and Liri disappear into the dark waters of the Blue River, and it already seemed like a week. Glancing back at the setting sun behind him, he found himself wondering if he would ever see his friends again.
Although he had lived on Sri Rosen for most of his life, he still remembered his older brother and father, his mother having succumbed to a fever when he was just an infant. On the training island, he had lived in one of the southern villages, and only had barely known Taryn and Liri. Mae he’d known only slightly better. But somehow, over the last few weeks of travel, the three of them had become like family to him, and he found that he missed them already.
It was a feeling he wouldn’t have admitted to anyone.
Below them, the fading daylight cast long shadows on the water as they glided over the mirror surface reflecting the city. To the south, Tallendale sat on a small rise adjacent to the river. Directly beyond the hill, the Blue Lake stretched in a vast expanse to the eastern horizon. With several islands in the distance and the sheer expanse of calm water, it could easily be mistaken for an ocean.
“Worried about Thacker and his family?” Mae asked, appearing at his side.
“Nah, I think they will be all right,” he said, sniffing to hide his emotions. “And it’s good to be free of the little rascals.”
In an effort to avoid further problems, Thacker and the captain had chosen to drop them off a few miles outside of the city, so they had disembarked an hour ago. It had been a sound plan, but one that meant the family would camp outside the walls of the settlement for at least one night. To his credit, the captain had suggested a fishing village a few miles east of Tallendale that might be a suitable place to settle. Trin had also caught him dropping a handful of coins into the fathers pack.
Mae shifted and caught his eye, her expression unreadable. “I didn’t know you were so good with young ones.”
Trin laughed, unwilling to admit how much he had enjoyed their company. “Maybe it’s because I am one.”
“That I won’t argue,” she said, but her expression was still thoughtful. “Did you see the elves to the north?” She asked.
He nodded without turning around, but his perpetual smile didn’t have its usual warmth. The enduring fear had taken a toll on him just like everyone else and for the first time in his life, it took effort to be relaxed. His calm attitude was not reflected by most of the sailors on the ship, who cast worried glances to the north side of the river. The small elven settlement set into the woods would have normally been inviting—but not with the veritable army of elves in view.
Although docks extended out over the water from both the elven and human sides, it could clearly be seen that neither one was allowed on the other’s side. Elven sentries with naked blades in hand patrolled the few piers that had not been destroyed, ready for battle at a moment’s notice.
For their part, the humans of the southern kingdom had their share of soldiers as well—albeit less organized and armed. These ragtag groups patrolled the south bank with suspicious looks at their fair neighbors—glares which were returned frequently.
“’Tis a sad day to see them like this,” Sabriel spoke behind them, and they turned. His expression was somber as he looked at the two sides of the river. “Goods used to be ferried back and forth without a sword in sight not six months ago.” He shook his head
and sighed. "Aye, 'tis a sad day indeed."
Then he turned as the captain called out to his crew, “Make ready to dock boys, we should be welcome here, but be prepared just in case.”
“Sad indeed,” Sabriel whispered, just loud enough for the two of them to hear as he walked away.
The crew's response to their leader’s orders was quick, but they set about their duties cautiously. With weapons nearby and ready, they maneuvered the Sea Dancer towards the human waterfront. Gliding over the water, they slid into a pier without incident. Just as ropes were being tossed back and forth in the failing light, Mae leaned close to Trin. “I’ll be below until we leave,” she said, her tone resigned.
Before he could disagree, she disappeared and Trin didn’t go after her. She was right, as usual. There would be no way the humans would allow them to enter the city with an elf, and they needed supplies to cross the lake.
“Let’s go, Trin; we might need an extra sword the way things are going,” Erix said as he clapped him on the back. Reluctantly he followed the captain down onto the dock and tried not to notice the sharp looks in their direction—but was unable to suppress the desire to tread softly, as if every footfall could light the explosive atmosphere. In an effort to avoid scrutiny, the small group that Erix had selected to get supplies hurried up the slope and through the gates into the city.
Slipping through the doors just before the last vestiges of light vanished, they paused and watched as the gates closed. Lock after lock clicked behind them and Trin swallowed as an unnatural desire washed over him to tear the doors off and run into the night. They were in until dawn; hopefully they could finish their business by then.
“Come on,” the captain said in an effort to be encouraging, “let’s get some ale and a bed to sleep in, my coin.”
It was a testament to how nervous the crew was that no one responded when ale and a warm bed where mentioned.
“You’re on! But don’t start thinking any of you seadogs can out-drink me!” Trin exclaimed. His broad smile and joking words seemed to lighten the dark feelings that continued to envelop them, and they set out behind the captain’s retreating form.
As they trudged through the dim streets, Trin did his best to keep his demeanor pleasant. Despite his lighthearted words, it had taken far more effort than he would care to admit to fight the growing sense of dread. Forcefully he brushed it aside with some help from his deeply rooted sense of humor and focused on the city.
Unlike Keese, Tallendale did not extend to the water. Situated on a small hill, a low wall surrounded the entire city. A stone’s throw from the bulwarks, the waterfront contained an assortment of warehouses for holding goods. Docks long and short extended out over the waters of the Blue Lake and the Blue River.
A natural shipping point, the settlement seemed to have grown from a small village into a large city, with no regard for order. Expanding too rapidly, it had been added onto so many times it had become a maze of dirt roads and winding cobblestone lanes. Buildings were mostly leaning, two-story structures made of wood and thatch. Whereas Keese had been lit by numerous lamps, Tallendale possessed only a few smoky torches struggling to illuminate intersections. Most of the light that guided them came from dirty, greasy windows. Even the people they passed were drab, and rushed past them as if they carried some disease. Only one made eye contact, and he had his hand on his sword hilt.
Trin sighed, recalling his childhood home of Terros. As the capital of the eastern kingdom of Griffin, its white granite walls and towering buildings had become a beacon of order and strength. At least, that is the way he remembered it. Now he felt a growing dread at what he would find when he returned to his homeland. Deep down, he recognized that the further east they went, the worse it became. So what would he find in Terros?
Distracted by his thoughts, he nearly ran into Hunrin as he stopped at a structure larger than those around it. Erix leaned over and spoke quietly to Trin: “Keep your wits about you, boy, this isn’t a good place but it’s one of the few places owned by an honest man.”
Glancing at the creaking sign above him, Trin responded lightly, “As long as the ale doesn’t actually have hair in it, I’ll be fine.” The sign above the door read “The Bearded Keg.”
Steeling himself for anything, he stepped through the door and took a look around. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as he’d expected, although it seemed somewhat more subdued than a normal inn. The common room they’d entered contained numerous patrons eating, drinking, and talking in low tones, with many seated at a bar along the back wall. For some reason, a group of men clustered around something at the side of the room, each craning to see into the middle.
“What’s going on over there?” Trin asked the captain as they sat down at a table near the bar.
Glancing at the group, Erix shook his head and shrugged.
“They’re just finishing up a tournament of Stratos,” a barmaid answered as she came to their table.
“What’s Stratos?” Trin asked, his eyes on the crowd.
She frowned. “It’s a game. Started a few years back and it’s become pretty popular among kids and adults. Where have you been?” She speared him with suspicious eyes.
“Er, away on business,” Trin replied with a disarming smile that did little to assuage her concerns; then changed the subject back to the game. “They’re having a tournament of a game? Isn’t that a little . . . childish?”
She smirked without losing her wariness. “You haven’t played it. Adults started practicing it when some captain told his soldiers that they would become better officers if they played—and it worked. It wasn’t long before cities were having competitions.” Her tone went a little quieter and she stared into space. “I’m glad they let them do the tournament; it’s made folk almost happy. They nearly canceled it, you know.” She shook her head and forced a smile. “Now what can I get for you?”
“Four plates of whatever you are serving and ale as well,” Erix answered. “Oh, and can you tell Folson that Erix is here to see him?”
As she bustled away to get them something to eat, Trin stood up. “I’m going to check out this game,” he said, jerking his head towards the gathering in the corner.
“Don’t be long,” Hun grunted, “or you will miss the food.”
Trin nodded and carefully threaded his way through the tables and patrons. It turned out that the group was larger than he’d thought. At least thirty men stood or sat around two individuals facing each other at a table. After several attempts of trying to squeeze through earning him glares, he resigned himself to standing on a chair to see.
With his head above the crowd, he finally managed to get a good look at the game, although he couldn’t see the players. It looked like some sort of wooden board with black and white squares, ten to a side. What seemed to be carved wooden soldiers painted black and green stood at various spots on the board. Upon closer inspection, he could see that black was losing—badly. Taking a quick count, he saw that green had nine pieces and black had only four. Two of the black soldiers were in one corner and the other two were spread out alone. Green had surrounded each of them.
Then the green player reached forward and made a move, taking one of the black pieces. Whatever he’d done elicited murmurs from the onlookers. A spectator moved to whisper to someone, and Trin was finally able to see the black player—who turned out to be a soldier. He was an older man, thin and bearded. It seemed strange that a soldier would be in here playing a game, but Trin was even more surprised when he leaned over to get a look at the green player and saw a kid.
The young man playing green had light brown hair and matching eyes. He was a little on the plump side, and something about his posture told Trin that he wasn’t a fighter. In contrast, his eyes surveyed the board in the same calculating way that Trin would look at a group of charging swordsmen. Without warning the chair underneath Trin squeaked in protest, eliciting disapproving looks. Cursing under his breath, he righted himself before he could
fall.
After craning his neck for several minutes, Trin was able to watch the black player make several moves but he took only one of the green pieces. Green then took two more black pieces, and the soldier sighed before standing up.
“You are just too good, kid, I swear.” He toppled over his last piece. “You win.” He then handed the young man a small bag that clinked with money.
The crowd began to disperse amidst loud conversation, and Trin tried to listen in on the two men next to him.
“Amazing game. I can’t believe the kid won.”
“I knew he would—Braon is the best.”
“But he’s only fifteen, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think he’s ever lost.”
“Why is he in the adult tournament anyway?”
The man guffawed. “Because he beat everyone else!”
Trin turned away from the two men and pushed his way through the remaining crowd to find the young man cleaning up the game and putting the pieces into a leather bag.
“Hey kid, what are you playing?” Trin asked as he sat down across from him.
The young man looked up and smiled warmly. “Oh, just a game. It’s called Stratos. Ever heard of it?”
“Of course,” Trin replied; then he leaned in with wide eyes and a faint grin, “about five minutes ago.” The young man laughed a boyish laugh in response.
“I would teach you how to play, but I need to get some rest,” Braon replied; then his tone turned worried. “I have to find a ship that is going to Terros tomorrow morning.”
Trin spread his arms out wide and grinned. “Hey kid, you’re in luck. That’s where we’re going.”
“Really?” Braon asked excitedly. “I haven’t been able to find any ship going east. Do you think I could get a ride with you?”
Something about his tone made Trin suspect that the young man was more relieved than excited—but also scared. Braon didn’t want to go east—he had to.
Sidestepping the question for the moment, Trin answered his request with another question: “Do you have another tournament?”