“Alden, lord of heaven, Vundren, lord of the mountains, I ask you give Azenairk Thalanaxe forgiveness for all that he has done, not done, and for the fear in his heart. I know there is nothing to fear, and that it is simply the guilt of not being there at his fathers end that weighs upon him. I know also that the grief, the pressure, and the history of this dwarf of Boraduum that sits before us now, and I ask your blessings upon him. He is the most pious, gifted, and daring of men that I know, and he has saved me more than once, even in my darkest hours. Lords, should you see fit in your grace and wisdom, take that fear that doubt has shadowed over he and his family, cast it away, and replace it with the strength and courage that we all know he has. Lords, bless the last Thalanaxe, shine your lights upon him, so that he may carry us home, to whatever end, in your names and grace, Amen.”
“Amen. Fine words James, fine words.”
“See, no feathers.” James laughed, then stood and pulled the curtain back. The fresh air hit him in the face, cool compared to the last three hours in the confessional with his stocky friend listening the his entire family history.
“Not a word, nothin’ to the others. That be between you and me, knight o’ Chazzrynn.” Zen reached his arms around James, giving him a big hearted squeeze.
“Not a word, you have my vow there. Now, the sun has risen and you know the elf never sleeps. Best we head back up to the rooms and eat before they realize we have been out.” James straightened his tabard and turned with Zen.
“Oh we realize already, and the elf is starving. I would have hoped this last morning meal in Evermont would not have been staring at me for the last hour while we waited for you men.” Shinayne was leaning in the doorway to the temple of Alden, orange glows of the western sunrise painting her beauty and grace in with the light.
“How long ye’ been there, elf?”
“Long enough. I would not have cried like you think, I would have controlled it for you Zen, out of respect. I lost my parents too you know, yet they are out there, somewhere.” Shinayne looked out to the sky, the open hills of Shanador, to the mountains to the east.
“I know, I guess yer right. I just, I just..ummm….”
She walked up to Zen and put her hand on his shoulder. Her aquamarine eyes stared into his. “I know, men confess to men, women to women. I am no priestess, and Siril is far from who the two of you pray to. But, do not think for a moment that I am not there with you, all the way, like I promised.”
“Thank ye’ Shinayne. I know it, I do. Where are the others?”
“What, you think they waited to eat? No, it is always the elf that has to find, to hunt down the men, to rescue everyone, and to sneak about.” Shinayne turned to lead the men to breakfast. Her golden curls were reflecting the sun along with her radiant tan skin.
The gray stone stairs were long leading down from the high rising Temple of the Holy Offering, giving a view of all of Evermont. Tall domed buildings, bridges from stretching castles to mountain ridges and walls, and the lowland farmsteads that grew to the north farther than the eye could see. Walls and outposts carried early morning Shanadorian guards between their posts hundreds of feet over the ground. Red cliffs rose to the east and south from the perilous Misathi. Lush green hills melded into the rising sun to the west, the west that the three companions stared at as they walked back down to their common room in Evermont Castle.
The shan wearing guards in plate and chain armor bowed their helmed heads and gripped their spears to attention. Shinayne nodded, followed by Zen and James as they passed through the open door from the elevated catwalk into their guest quarters. The rooms and stay at Castle Evermont had been a week of rest and pleasure, nothing short. Peace, food, safety, and long deserved sleep had been needed and delivered by the bold knights of the kingdom of the stallion and shield.
It was noisy inside, much more than when the highborne woman had left. In fact, the room was now full.
“Lady Shinayne, Lord Thalanaxe, Sir James of the falcon, please, your food is anxious to be devoured before our long journey.” Sir Jardayne stood and bowed, motioning them to sit in the cluttered room full of people big and small.
Zen held his breath, looking around at the fifteen Shans o’ Little Door, five knights of Evermont, barely finding Gwenneth and Saberrak in the muddle of company.
“Our, long journey sir?” Zen faked a smile, his mind was racing.
“Well yes my stout friend, we have decided to give you and yours a royal escort. Well, royal in as much that we would dare with low king Symond in absence.” Jardayne of Highmont sat and popped a fresh strawberry into his mouth then beckoned with his hand for them to sit with the rest.
“Is that so then, truly, uhhh…may I ask---“ Zen stuttered, staring at the minotaur and the wizard, wanting answers.
“Oh come now, my bearded traveler, twill be most enjoyable. Who, other than great kings and wealthy rulers, should have the honor of we Shans o’ Little Door to play and accompany them in their travels?” Tubrey o’ Tarnobb spoke up from amidst his players small and stunted.
“Well, and ummm…you as well…ahh that be wonderful then, I s’pose.” He sat, followed by the quiet elven noble and his knightly friend. His stare was now fierce into the tattooed eyes of Saberrak who was not looking back, just eating pork filets and fruits and ignoring most everything else. He stared at Gwenneth next, who sat beside the Bear of Evermont, Sir Codaius of Norninne. She shook her head at Zen, ever so slightly.
“So, uhhh, where ye’ thinks we be headin’ then, I was unaware that---“
“To reunite with your lost family of course, nothing more noble could I think of, you surprise me with your secrets and honor, Azenairk. I shall sing songs of your devotion from here to eastern Pellan, all across great Shanador.” Tubrey raised his glass of morning wine mixed with fresh fruit to Zen and drank.
“Oh, and ye’ think that ye be up to, such a task, truly? Perhaps I needin’ to be talkin’ with me companions for a moment, in private then.” Zen was fuming. He had told them not to say a word.
“In truth, you would only require myself to guard you on such a journey, but the others have insisted on tagging along. Ha!” Sir Codaius spoke up, elbowed Jardayne, his mass and weight nearly knocking his superior out of his chair.
“We know all about your cousins in Freemoore, Lord Thalanaxe, and we would be honored to escort you for the mere week there. I have royal business with Freemoore in any regard, as Armondeen has been harassing the free city and their merchants. Besides, low king Symond should be passing through on his return from Acelinne. I shall be giving him escort for the remainder of his return here, to Evermont. Thus, it is a convenience for us both, thine and mine own, good dwarf. I insist.” Sir Jardayne explained, curious as to why the dwarf would not wish an escort and company for just a weeks travel north.
His breath let out like a mountain of weight had just fallen off his chest. Zen smiled, looking to Saberrak who huffed at him, then to Gwenneth who smiled back, and lastly to James and Shinayne sitting on his left.
He whispered. “Fine, allright. But what do we do when tis time to turn west? Just leave em in the mornin’ and head out without a word? What if they try findin’ us or followin’ or, Vundren’s Blessed Breastplate, now what?”
“It will be fine. Have faith, it will work out one way or the other.” James whispered back, raising his glass of water to a toast from yet another knight of Evermont.
“How many days before we turn west, Zen?” Shinayne whispered as the conversations carried on, some music strummed into the air, and everyone ate.
“Four or so, when we see the foothills o’ the Kaki Mountains.”
“Then, we have four days to plan it.” She whispered back, enjoying the figs and morning wine.
“How? Ye’ got any ideas, elf?”
“No.”
“James, anything?”
“Afraid not. Heading west to those lands, there is no real explanation besides suicide, or the truth. But I would tha
nk them regardless, the Knight General has insisted and we are in his country. They have been nothing short of honorable and giving.”
“Great. If I tell em’ the truth, someone sure will hear o’ it. Keep it quiet then, I will handle it in four days, I be the one to explain it when we leave em’.” Zen stood and sighed.
“Knight General Jardayne o’ Evermont, though we not be in need o’ yer escort, it would be an honor it would, to have ye’ then. Me thanks to ye, and to you as well, little Shans.” He raised his glass of fruit and weak watery wine that humans loved, drank, and sat back down.
The knights of Evermont, the five that had remained while their low king was away at the capital, all stood, glasses in hand in early morning.
“I believe that I speak for us all, the knights of Evermont that is, when I say that you five are likely the most heroic and dedicated folk that have passed through our city since I took my knighthood. I commend you for your honor and bravery!” Young Sir Anders of Carrelyn flicked his blonde braids of hair back and looked to his four fellow guardians of the low throne.
“No finer truths have been spoken this day!” Gruff yet noble, Sir Naghen of Nestrim concurred.
“I shall drink to any words of praise for these five bearers of deed and companionship!” Handsome and clean shaven, Sir Valonne of Cailoc raised his glass with the others as his blonde locks blew around.
Sir Codaius and Knight General Jardayne each drew their blades over the breakfast table, followed by the other three, and raised them high toward the five companions they thought were heading to Freemoore under their escort.
“Yay! Yay! Yay!” The knights, their squires, and the little minstrels all stomped, clapped, and shouted.
Saberrak stood during all the cheers and walked past Zen, patting him hard on the shoulder which spilled his wine a bit into his lap. Gwenneth did the same, yet not as hard. She leaned over to Azenairk and whispered.
“Had you worried for a moment there?”
“Aye.”
“Saberrak and I handled it, just as you asked. The escort was unavoidable without drawing suspicion though. Stop doubting, my bearded friend.” Gwenne smiled as the wind took her long black hair around them both.
“Yer right, yer right. I get it, got it, sorry and all.” Zen smiled up to his arcane wielding friend.
“We leave in two hours, are you ready?”
“As ready as I will ever be I s’pose then. You?”
“You know the answer to that, Zen. We are always ready.” Her confidence shone through her sincere smile. She noticed James staring up at her, a dumbfound look upon his face. She smiled back to him and then kissed Zen on the cheek. “See you down at the north bridge.”
Azenairk turned as red as the strawberries in front of him. He looked to Shinayne who shrugged and continued to eat and drink in peace. Then to James, who was staring back at him, straightfaced and serious.
“What was that for then?” James asked direct, very demanding in fact. He turned his head away and took his glass of water.
“Luck I s’pose, why? Ye be needin’ one? I can ask her, hey Gwenneth---“
James spit his water all over his food, choking, coughing, drawing stares from a few gathered pygmy singers and two squires. “No, no…don’t---“
“Yes Zen?” Gwenneth smiled.
“James here was wonderin’ bout’ a kiss for luck too, ye’ know.” Zen smiled, his flush face returning to normal.
“No, I was….no…not---“ His coughing took over.
“Is that so?” Gwenneth walked back and leaned toward James Andellis. She looked at his trim brown beard, short waves of hair, then his deep blue eyes that turned right into hers, not inches away. The room quieted.
He could not speak, her green eyes captivated him, her wry smile, her fair skin and dark contrasting hair on the breeze. His throat tightened, water trapped still, he held his cough lest he would likely shower her face with what remained of his refreshing drink.
“Maybe if he asked a lady himself, nicely.” Gwenne stared, his face was red, his eyes were tearing she thought. She waited.
James could not speak, his cough stifled barely. If he moved his mouth the moment would be surely destroyed. Silently, he closed his eyes and leaned in toward her. He thought of her lips, her skin, he felt it inside without question.
Gwenneth’s lips were an inch away from his, then she looked around, everyone was staring. Her face went flush and she stood back straight.
“I do apologize for interrupting your meal, please, continue.” She waved her hand, curtsied, and turned away despite the groans of disappointment from the little folk.
James opened his eyes and coughed into his hand. She was gone, already walking out the balcony toward the bridge. He hung his head as everyone went back to their conversations and meal.
“Nice work James, nicely done there. She done froze ye’ then, and ye’ had yer chance.” Zen chuckled and bit into the eggs and pork on his plate, cold but still delicious.
“I was choking, not afraid. Why would you think I wanted to kiss her---“
“Ahhh, James, knight o’ the falcon o’ Chazzrynn, don’t be tryin’ to scuddle yer way past me then. Hah! Remember, son, I be twice yer’ age nearly, and me eyes be workin’ just fine at sixty three years o’ life. Vundren, bless this boy to have the courage to take the woman he---“ His humorous prayer was cut short.
“You are intolerable at the moment, my stocky priest. I think I need to get ready.” James smiled, tried to hide it with wiping his mouth, and left the table.
“Hah! What a family I have then, eh elf?”
“Indeed.” Shinayne smiled.
“Ye’ know he wanted to kiss her, right?” Zen looked to the elven beauty beside him.
“Yes, I have known for some time actually. I am over twice your age, remember? An elf does not need eyes to see such things, my bearded friend.” Shinayne patted Zen on the shoulder.
“Now yer’ just tryin’ to be all competitive.”
“No, but I knew back before Deadman’s Pass, I felt it.”
“Aye?”
“Yes.”
“Well I knew before that, in uhhh…in Bailey with the dragons.” Zen bluffed.
“No you didn’t, it wasn’t there yet.” Shinayne smiled.
“No?”
“No.”
“You elves is too connected to all that love stuff, how is a dwarf s’posed to compete with all that then?” Zen went back to his meal.
“You cannot. See you at the north bridge?” Shinayne smiled and got up to leave the table.
“Aye, need a few moments. Keep the others quiet, for me and all.”
“Of course, what is family for?”
“Vundren bless ye’ Shinayne, may he bless all of us, especially now.”
“And Siril bless you, my devout priest. See you there.” Shinayne bowed to the knights, the minstrels, and headed out the doors.
“A song before our travels, Lord Thalanaxe?” Tubrey o’ Tarnobb piped up over the ever quieting room.
“Sure little man, go ahead then. Know any dwarven songs?” Zen smiled as he ate, receiving puzzled looks from the little band gathered around the room. They all looked to each other, shrugging, trying to think of any ballads from the men of the mountains they had heard. They hung their little heads, realizing they knew none.
“Tell ya’ what then, I’ll sing one out, ye’ and yours put the music to it. Ready?”
“Yay!”
Kendari IV:I
Central Plains, Shanador
The sun stroked down, hour after hour, unrelenting on his black clothing, atop a stolen black steed, in layers of chain and leather armor, black as pitch. The breeze, if there was one in the barren plains of grass and brush, did not assist in the slightest. Only the strong gallop of the stallion, reaching top speed and gracing under the occasional grove of trees, gave any relief to the cursed Nadderi elf. His white pale skin burned in the harvest sun, his black swirls and hair soaked in
the heat, only the young deer that ran alongside seemed content with the journey.
Kendari had passed through the Gimmori Mountains in Kivanis, taken a horse in the night from a small stables, saddle and all. He left a handful of platinum and gold in a pouch where the saddle was hung, as he was no petty thief. The deer would not leave his sight, never more than a few hundred feet ahead or behind, its small horns bounding up from the tall grasses as it ran along. The cities of Pellan and Fort Shadyre had passed by, far to his north. Yesterday, Acelinne was to his south. He kept his westward charge through the lonely plains, stopping only for water, rest, and the avoidance of sporadic packs of nomadic hunting lewirja and suspicious centaur tribes. The elven swordmaster would buy his food from traveling merchants on the central Shanador tradeways, at night, in the cover of hood and shadow only.
Passing the lonely bridge of stone and oak in early evening, Kendari of Stillwood slowed his pace. The Garalan River was rushing south toward the Misathi, tents dotted the landscape of small hills and sparse fir trees, and he felt the need to rest himself and the horse. For the deer, he could not have cared less.
“So, you are indeed reincarnated from the bowels of Seirena, we have attained that much.” He looked to the deer that waited a few feet away.
The deer nodded, growled, then looked to the river. Its brown fur and small white tail seemed to tremble when Kendari spoke to him.
“Laedury, the river elf of the Hedim Anah I killed back over three centuries ago? Is that you then?” Kendari tied the reins to a browning fir branch and walked toward the river behind his divinely insisted upon companion.
The deer shook its head and growled twice, which meant no.
“Jurloe, elven captain in Stillwood I slew back when I was yet to be cursed. I did not see him among the specters when---“ Kendari saw the small horned head shake, meaning he had guessed wrong again.
The deer drank from the riverbed, sidestepping away from the Nadderi elf if he got within ten feet or so.
The Exodus Sagas: Book IV - Of Moons and Myth Page 4