by H. A. Harvey
“Dere’s nodding ta talk about.” Kaesa growled, “It was fairy magic, and nodding more. Ye got nodding ta be sorry for, an’ no reason for me ta hurt ye . . . unless ye keep dis up.”
“I don’t think you would hurt me.” Rowan answered quickly, “There’s no doubt you’re capable. Yet, you could have cracked my ribs just now without trying, but didn’t. And I didn’t have a bruise or mark on me when I woke up by the ash grove either. There has to be some reason we ended up together.”
“Because neidder of us were smart enough to turn down fairy food an’ drink.”
“I mean more than that. David and Xain lost a few pieces of clothes and got pranked, but we ended up together.” Rowan pressed. “Why not see if something’s there?’
“Because it would be a bad match. Ye love to travel the wilds and when dis is over, I plan ta set up a forge or return to my old one in Nilheim. Forges don’t travel well.” Kaesa locked her gaze on Rowan’s eyes, “But mostly because my name is not Elly.”
Rowan blinked. He felt the blood leave his face. Kaesa loosed her grip on Rowan’s jerkin and stalked back toward the carnivale. Rowan was quite certain he’d never mentioned Elliastrea since Kaesa joined the group. He hurried to catch up to the Njord.
“You remember that night, don’t you?” Rowan placed himself directly in the Njord’s path. “Is that when I said her name?”
“I didn’t at first, but yes.” Kaesa eyed Rowan suspiciously, “Ye mean ye don’t?”
Rowan shook his head, “I’ve been trying. It’s why I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since we left the dragon’s lair.”
“Drake.”
“Really?” Rowan glared at Kaesa until he saw her smirk, then chuckled. “The point is, I keep thinking I should remember something, anything from that night. I mean, with someone like you, I’m sure it had to have been legendary.”
“Because I’m a half-breed?” Kaesa’s sudden shift of tone told Rowan that she was dangerously misunderstanding him.
“Because you’re beautiful. You’re like a chiseled statue of polished marble.” Rowan shrugged, “Only I can’t remember a thing; if you were hard as stone or soft, or if I treated you right, nothing.”
“Ye remember waking up, yes?” Kaesa queried, and at his nod, “Was I hard as stone then?”
“Firm, but soft.” Rowan swallowed, remembering well enough the feel of waking up next to her.
“An’ do ye dink even being gentle, I’d let ye treat me any way odder dan I wished ta be?”
Rowan shook his head. Kaesa smirked again and leaned up to kiss his cheek.
“Dat night might not have been legendary, but it was nice enough . . .” Kaesa gave his rear a hard pat as she walked around him. “Figure out who yer chasing, an’ dough dere be no future in it, I might remind ye of de rest sometime.”
Rowan didn’t chase her this time. Thinking of Elly still out there somewhere left him half stunned, and trying to count the switchbacks in Kaesa’s moods took care of the other half. After a few moments, Rowan decided to wander through the blossoming cherry trees for a while and try to clear his head.
Rowan still planned to go back and find Elly once the task at hand was finished, even if it was only to see her buried properly. Was chasing a ghost worth forgoing pursuing the living, breathing Kaesa? Of course, the Njord might be right about not having much of a future together, but part of him seemed set on arguing that superhuman strength did not make her any sort of prophet. Then, there was the fact that his relationship with the Elven woman wasn’t even really defined. Their kindred spirits had quickly made them fast friends, but when he thought about it Elly had only ever offered to show him the wilds of her homeland. It was hardly a declaration of anything more than friendship. But along those lines of thought, Kaesa wasn’t offering more than short-term companionship, and she had come right out and said it. Or was she just leaving him a way out, and not saying she hoped she was wrong.
Rowan was still silently wishing that dealing with women was anything like tracking beasts, or even birds, when his feet led him back to the camp. Nian and the others had returned in Rowan’s absence, along with over a dozen Sattal. The tent was pitched and a long row of wooden tables had been carried out onto the field. A small stage was under construction in another corner of the field, marking off the points of a broad triangle between the pavilion, table, and the stage. Nian looked up from his work and, seeing Rowan, strode over with a broad grin on his face.
“What’s all this, Ni?”
“A send-off.”
“But we just got here.”
“Not for us, for Kolel.” Nian answered, looking back at the little white Sattal girl, “Apparently, Sattal funerals aren’t quite like the ones we’re used to in Tyre. Weeping is considered selfish, and is supposed to be done in private. They hold a big festival to celebrate the person’s life. We’re supposed to tell stories about his best moments, show things we own that he made, dance, and make merry.”
Rowan stood watching the Sattal over Nian’s shoulder for several moments. He’d seen spontaneous banquets hosted by Sattal merchants before. After all, there was hardly a town or trading post anywhere that didn’t have at least one Sattal merchant or innkeeper. Such festivals without occasion were always a good place to get a fine meal and all the drink you could stomach at no charge. Rowan had always thought it marvelous luck to be in town when one sprang up. Now he thought he’d be sick to his stomach trying to count all the funerals he’d crashed.
“Maybe I should sit this one out, Ni.” Rowan said hesitantly. “I don’t think we should be getting drunk and partying instead of looking for Karen.”
“That’s the best part.” Nian smiled and nodded to a great, fat calico Sattal that sat at the head of the line of tables. The calico nodded back. “That’s Uncle Dante, he has a lot of Cousins across Kadisvale. He’s already sent word to find Karen, and all we do in exchange is give Kolel a proper send-off.”
“Still, I can just hide out in the orchard for the night or something.”
“Rowan, don’t be a split-hoof.” Nian slugged Rowan on the shoulder and tugged him over to the golden-eyed girl. “Rowan, this is Eulalia . . . Kolel’s daughter.”
“Nian, you’re a jerk.” Rowan thought about as loudly as he dared, but nodded to Eulalia. “P-pleased to meet you, Miss Eulalia.”
“Please, Lally is fine.” The petite girl answered. “I understand you caught my father’s last breath.”
“Um,” Rowan paused in uncertainty. “We weren’t that close, Miss Eulalia.”
“She means you attended his last moments.” Nian explained. “They believe that a Sattal that dies among loved ones passes a bit of themselves on to those around them. Among other things, it sorta makes you and Riona guests of honor tonight.”
“It also means that, in some small way, you are like he was to me.” Eulalia nodded, “So, since he and other family that grew up with me always called me Lally, I’d prefer if you did as well. And you’ll sit next to me tonight at the banquet.”
. . .
There was a solid turnout for the sendoff. Several townsfolk had arrived for the carnivale then eased their disappointment at a night’s delay with the lure of free drink and food. Sattal apparently counted brewing and culinary art as falling within an artisan’s domain, so the food and drink provided would not have been surpassed by a royal banquet. Still, more than two-thirds of the gathering were the unassuming cat-folk. It was almost humorous to watch the exchange of so much courtesy as every Sattal seemed to make extreme effort to ensure everyone else at the party was well-served and comfortable.
Autumn sat fidgeting with her borrowed dress of golden silk and listening to the stories of Kolel’s life. Being as the merchant had been from a foreign land, there were only a couple of the local Sattal that had even briefly met him. Most of the talking was done by Eulalia and Ates, with
Rowan, Nian, and Riona giving them an occasional break. Kolel’s daughter told one story after another, half of her own experience, others tales recounted to her from Kolel himself or wardens she was left with while he traversed more dangerous regions.
Kolel was apparently little more than a dabbler in craftsmanship by Sattal standards. He knew a bit about working metals, a bit about stitchery, wood carving, stonecutting, cooking, and even fiddled with alchemic recipes once, but never really settled on a craft of his own. His two greatest skills were apparently working cards and people. The two talents even combined in one story where he enticed two feuding clans to settle things at a game of chance, and left both deprived of the goods that had started the argument.
Autumn gathered from things left unsaid that his venture to create a world-spanning trade cartel was only marginally successful. It seemed that what profits he’d made from the routes he charted always went to some extravagant gift for his daughter or himself, or were spent on half-noble gestures of goodwill to ‘boost relations’ among the remote peoples he hoped to woo into his cartel. Each venture and round of extravagance left just enough coin to launch him off on his next endeavor.
It wasn’t until his daughter was old enough to trail along behind him and manage the books of the business that the family at home ever saw any real results from his efforts. Still, Autumn wondered how many of Kolel’s gestures of goodwill had changed lives across the face of Creation. She desperately wished she’d known him for more than the briefest of moments.
“I have one, if it’s alright.” Autumn finally said, clearing her throat. The sudden hush was more intimidating than she’d expected as the fellowship gathered about the table turned their expectant eyes on her. She cleared her throat a second time. “Ah, I didn’t know Kolel well. I only saw him twice, and never really spoke with him, which I regret. The first time I saw him, I have to admit that I didn’t think highly of him. I thought his clothes were gaudy and he seemed like a silly rich man that would probably annoy me if I spent any time around him.”
Autumn could tell from the expression on Nian’s face that, love her he might, but at the moment, he wished he could be sitting anywhere but next to her. She ignored the looks and pressed on.
“The second time I saw him was when he helped to save my life. We were surrounded and hopelessly outnumbered. Then, Kolel came from nowhere, hurtling over the enemy ranks, spears and all, atop his dashing white steed with his feathered hat and cape riding the wind like war standards. He wove through a hail of arrows like they were nothing more than raindrops. My sense of balance is pretty famous among those who know me, and I’ve spent a few years in Tyre where children learn to ride as soon as they can sit upright in the saddle, but that ride was by far the finest I have ever seen.”
Autumn laid a hand on Nian’s to stop him from clapping. “He came out there for Nian, but instead carried off my wounded father because he couldn’t walk himself. Kolel proved that not only was I wrong about him, but that he was equal to the hero of any story I’ve ever heard. I hear so many tales about how he went out of his way to help so many strangers, and as one of them, I’m grateful that Kolel touched my life, however briefly. They say that Nian is the Emissary of Kadia, but I think perhaps it is a torch passed to him by Kolel.”
There was silence for a moment before the table erupted in applause and toasts to Kolel. Nian gave her hand a squeeze and smiled. The bustling about the table finally subsided as Uncle Dante rapped loudly on the table with his knuckles.
“I think that is a fine memory to end tha dinner with.” Dante raised a glass to Autumn, draining its contents before continuing. “Let us dance and fill tha air with music to speed Kolel on his way.”
The Sattal all leapt to their feet and, as musicians scooped up instruments on the stage, began to whirl and dance to an excited melody. Rowan looked intent on skipping the dancing portion, instead heading toward Autumn and Nian, but he was intercepted by Riona and the young Eulalia, who whisked him out onto the triangular dance floor. Nian stood and took Autumn by the hand.
“Shall we dance?” Nian asked with an exaggerated bow.
Autumn started to shake her head, but jumped a little as the calico paws of the heavy-set Uncle Dante came to rest one on either of their shoulders.
“As touching as an homage as that was,” He muttered in low tones, “Mentioning that we dined with tha Emissary tonight was not altogether wise. That title is known to tha baron and most of Baeden at this point. You may have limited tha time you will be able to rest here safely.”
Autumn glanced from the Sattal’s face to Nian’s, realizing her slip at once. “I got carried away. I wasn’t even thinking of that when I said it.”
“We should be alright.” Nian assured her. “I was thinking something along the same lines, and am glad that you said it. Besides, it’s a Family gathering and I find myself trusting them.”
“The company is mixed,” Dante reminded Nian, “And while being a Friend of tha Family extends some of its protection to you, I would still say we will have to be ready to alter a few plans. For tonight, dance and enjoy tha music. I will know by morning what adjustments to make.”
Autumn felt miserable. She watched as the fat innkeeper jovially joined the festivities, scooping up a Sattal woman half his size, though she was hardly small or slender, and spinning her about in time with the music. Nian tapped her shoulder to get her attention.
“I don’t feel much like dancing, Nian.” Autumn muttered. “Even if I hadn’t just ruined everything, I don’t really know how.”
“With your balance and acrobatics, you don’t know how to dance?” Nian laughed, “Just do what Riona did backwards. Think of it as fighting, without hurting anyone. Besides, I think the whole point of this festival is to dance when you least feel like it. Maybe that’s when it’s most important.”
Without waiting for her next excuse, Nian tugged her out onto the trampled field behind him. He held onto her at first, and that made it a bit easier. She liked when he held her, it made her feel relaxed, at home. Once she relaxed, it was easy to let herself move with him and with the music. Before she knew it, the music moved through her, and at least for a moment, carried everything away. It was like melding with the ancients, but instead of quiet tranquility, she was filled with wild, joyous energy.
Once she was taken up with the excitement, Autumn tugged Nian into the throng of the other dancers. They laughed and spun and twirled. Before long, she was spinning about and pairing off with other partners. She danced a few bars with Rowan, then lapped the dance-floor twice with Riona. She even paired with Dante for a while, who was a nimble and vigorous partner, despite his girth.
Eventually, Autumn decided she should swap her way back to Nian, but couldn’t seem to find him. After a few turns around the floor failed to uncover him, she dropped back to the sidelines to catch her breath and look more earnestly. She stood panting with her hands on her hips as she looked about with a genuine smile on her face. It was the first time Autumn could remember that she smiled without purposefully doing so.
Autumn finally spied Nian across the way, standing in the fringe of the cherry orchard. He stood facing the party, speaking to a woman with soft brown hair, wearing a white gown who stood with her back to the lantern lights of the party. The grave expression on Nian’s face banished both any illusion that it might be a romantic meeting as well as dashing the grin from Autumn’s own face.
The woman embraced Nian tenderly and, though the gesture seemed to do little to ease his mood, Nian returned the brief hug. Autumn wove her way across the field of dancers and merrymaking. By the time she reached the far side of the dance floor, the woman had gone and Nian was standing with his back to her, gazing into the orchard.
Autumn walked up behind him and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. Nian turned and smiled when he saw her face. He bent down and swept her up in a hug so fierce that Autumn thoug
ht her ribs might break if he squeezed any tighter. When Nian finally set her back down, Autumn searched his eyes. He was smiling, but the solemn look was still shading his features.
“That was Her, wasn’t it?” Autumn asked, though she already knew the answer. Nian nodded. “What did She say to you?”
“She told me what my task was.” Nian answered simply.
Autumn waited. Nian knew her well enough by now to know that answer wasn’t good enough. She stared up at him for quite a while before she decided he needed prompting.
“And . . . ?” Autumn pressed.
“I’ll never lie to you, Autumn.” Nian murmured. “But if I tell you this, you have to swear first that you’ll stay behind when we go to save Karen, and not breathe a word to the others.”
Autumn thought for only a moment. She’d been considering staying back already, since she would likely be more liability than help while she couldn’t even accidentally harm anything. She silently nodded agreement.
“When we see Karen, Kadia’s promise is fulfilled, and my task will be before me. There will be a door, I’ll know it when I see it. I’m to destroy everything I find behind the door.”
“That should be easy enough with help from the ogre.” Autumn answered encouragingly, “But why would Kadia order you to destroy anything?”
“It’s not Her, Autumn. It’s all of Them. The Twelve reached a consensus on this. Whatever enemy the fairy queen warned me about, They want it destroyed at its source.” Nian looked out at the revelers a few yards away. “And none of them, or you can help. When we have Karen, I’m to send them away with her to safety. I’m protected from this thing’s influence, but anyone else who goes on will be turned against me, and have to be destroyed as well.”