by D. E. Morris
Kira’s eyes filled again with tears. “I loved her like a daughter.”
“Stay here, in her house. It belongs to you now. It is what she would have wanted.”
“Thank you, Badru. Please take care of yourself, and when you find Nealie’s offspring, tell them only the best of their mother.”
“I will.” He bent to kiss her cheek. “Be well.”
As he stepped outside and into the summer heat, Badru let go of a sigh. “Donnchadh fought with you at Siness, did he not?”
“Yeah,” Cavalon confirmed. Instead of heading back toward the center of town, the two men walked past Nealie’s house and out toward the more open grasslands of the area. “I never spent any real time with him though, so I wouldn’t be able to tell you much. He wore armor too new and fancy for a down and dirty battle, and all I got from seeing him fight was that he felt like he had something to prove.”
“But he does. His is the first free rule of Ibays in ages. Before Tadhg, this land was under oppression from Tadhg's father. Before that they were a nation struggling to survive, let alone thrive.”
“So what would Nealie have to do with that? Why would she be so entangled with Donnchadh?”
“I would think it was because of his position. It would be the closest she ever came to being royalty.” They stopped walking when they were far enough away from Cormill and disappeared into fyre, reappearing outside another village. This place was clearly better off financially and it showed in everything from the architecture, to the clothing people wore, right down to the shoes on their feet. “Lerranyth Village is doing well,” Badru pointed out. “Let us try to see how fares the high king and his keep.”
As in Cormill, no one paid them any special attention. Being the capital of Ibays, these people were used to seeing strangers come to visit the castle and their king. There were merchants here as well, though they were far less pushy than those in Cormill and much more expensive.
A wide dirt and grass path led from the back of the village up to the main gate of the castle, some five hundred yards from the village itself. There was a trench dug around the outer wall, but instead of being filled with water there were armored men relaxing and having a chat. As Badru and Cavalon walked the wooden bridge that would take them to the portcullis, the men jumped to attention and scrambled to block the heavy gate.
“State your business,” demanded one of the men.
“We seek audience with High King Donnchadh,” Badru answered easily. “I am Badru from the Southern wetland nomads. As this is not my first attempt to see your king, no doubt you will remember me. This is Cavalon of the Sandlands. We have traveled quite far to speak with your high king.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
They looked up at the man who shouted down at him from the battlement. “We do not,” said Badru, “but he has recently held audience with a sister to Cavalon and myself. She was called Nealie.”
The men spared each other a quick sideways glance before taking a more assertive potion. “No entry into the castle unless you have an appointment.”
Beside him, Cavalon instinctively moved into a defensive fighting stance, but Badru laid a hand on his shoulder. “There is no need for confrontation. My friend and I will be at the tavern, resting our feet and curing our dry throats. Should an appointment open up...”
“We’ll know where to find you,” said the man above them. There was little promise in his voice. Even as Cavalon and Badru turned away to walk back into town, the men stayed in their offensive positions.
Cavalon glanced back with irritation. “Not allowed in without an appointment? Did you see how they looked at each other when you mentioned Nealie?”
“I did.” Badru’s face was blank, almost calm. “This inquiry will not be easy. Though there was more promise in this exchange than any I have had with them before.”
“We don’t have to wait for an invitation, you know. We can get in easy enough without having to even worry about those guys.”
Badru shook his head. “No, Cavalon. If we are having a hard time seeing Donnchadh now, think of his reaction if we magically appear out of nowhere.”
“You got a better idea?”
“Yes.” Badru’s dark face lit up, an idea clearly forming as a grin spread his lips. “We have a drink and rest our feet, just as I said we would.”
Neither spoke a word to each other until filled mugs were in hand and they’d found themselves a table off to the side of the tavern. Badru took a long pull of his hot tea with Cavalon watching him. “Listen, I don’t mind drinking my time away in here anymore than the next guy, but why can’t I have mead? How is this going to get us into Lerranyth? We’ll be lucky if those guys even tell Donnchadh we’re here.”
“Drink your tea, Cavalon. Trust me.” There was a spark in Badru’s eye that had not been there all day. Besides the serious and straightforward Badru, he had other sides to him that were rarely seen. One was his temper which, when sparked, turned him into a completely different person. He could sling insults without care and maim and kill without any real thought. All formal ways of speaking were forgotten and he was pure emotion. Also just as free from formalities was his mischievous side. This was the most dangerous aspect of Badru perhaps, if only because it was so rarely seen that no one knew what to expect.
“I don’t trust you,” Cavalon said with an honest laugh, though he took a gulp of his tea anyway. “You know why? Because the last time you told me to trust you, I got my face smashed in with a club.”
Badru had to swallow quickly or he would have spit out his drink, his laughter came so forcefully. “You cannot possibly still hold me at fault for that.”
“You better believe I do. I was the one who didn’t want to go in there, you know.”
“Oh come now, Cavalon. We were both moved deeply by the pretty face we chased after.”
“Is that why you lied to me about her brother? You wanted me to distract him so you could woo her away?”
“Possibly,” Badru chuckled. “I also decided your face could still look good with bruises and lumps.”
“Yeah, thanks for that. My nose never did heal properly.”
“I noticed it was a little crooked.”
They ordered food after awhile and spent time catching each other up on what had been going on in their separate lives. Badru had another grandchild and had seen three of his many children married off in the past year. He said his youngest was two now, and he was done ensuring he had descendants for a little while. Cavalon spoke of the Volarim but stayed away from the subject of Nuala and Lucien. It was easier not to talk about them than to have to explain the complications of it all.
By the time the sun started to lower in the sky, Cavalon was getting antsy. As much as he enjoyed Badru’s company, he didn’t want to sit in a pub all day when they could be out searching for Nealie’s offspring, especially when Badru refused to let him drink anything but tea or water. He was about to say as much when he caught Badru’s eyes lift and his expression go carefully blank. Cavalon glanced over his shoulder to see the two guardsmen who’d come in.
The tavern was fairly well filled at the moment and finding a table with room for them was not going to be easy. Cavalon and Badru glanced at each other and shared a quick nod before the darker man stood up. “Over here,” he called genially across the din of other patrons. “There is still room at our table.”
The guardsmen, still in uniform, made their way across the crowded room and sat, one on each side, with a muttering of thanks. When they recognized who they were with, Badru smiled and shook his head. “No hard feelings. We understand you have a job to do.”
“Is your shift over?” Cavalon asked, “or are you here to let us know we’re allowed in now?”
“Shift’s over,” one of them answered simply.
“Then let us buy you something to drink. Mead, Cavalon?”
Cavalon looked at Badru for a moment, his mind sorting out why they hadn’t had anything real t
o drink yet. They were waiting for drinking partners. “I’ll go get us a few rounds.”
It appeared that the two men relaxed a bit more once there was food in their stomachs and ale in their hands. Cavalon and Badru had them laughing and talking within the hour, though Badru made sure neither he nor Cavalon had too much to drink. It was nearing dusk when Badru made the bold request of a tour of the town of Lerranyth. The two men were too drunk to object, and even let Badru pay for the entire meal before they all left together.
The first darkened alley they passed, Badru grabbed one guardsman and Cavalon grabbed the other. The men were knocked out and quickly stripped of their gear and armor. Badru dressed easily, but Cavalon was having a problem. “I can’t fit into these,” he hissed. The two men had been average in size. Cavalon’s well toned and muscular form would not fit obligingly into their chainmail, let alone the outer dressings.
“You have to,” returned Badru in a quiet bark. “Our faces have been seen at the gatehouse already. I cannot pretend you are my prisoner. It would be playing against fate.”
“Well then I hope you’re feeling lucky because I can’t wear this. Look at me.”
Badru, fully dressed in the mail and finishing the ties to the armor, turned around to look at his friend. He bit on a smile. The chainmail had gone over Cavalon’s head easily enough, but it clung to his shoulders and refused to conform to his arms or his torso, unable to go down further than just under his chin. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” spat Cavalon. “Think of another plan, smart guy.”
The failing light from the opening of the alley darkened and both men looked up quickly. “What do you think you’re doing?” Whoever it was held a bow with an arrow ready. Female from the sound of the voice, her profile was of medium build and showed her hand was steady with the bow. Badru and Cavalon glanced at one another and an arrow shot through the small amount of space between them. “Don’t look at each other. Answer me or my mark will be your hides and not the wall behind you.”
“We can explain,” Badru offered feebly.
“Well go on then. I’m listening. But you’d better speak quickly or you’ll have more than me to worry about.”
As Cavalon pulled the chainmail off of himself, Badru lifted his hands to the figure to show he was unarmed. “If you would only lower your weapon so that we may have a civil conversation...”
“And give you two brutes a chance to attack me?” She laughed humorlessly. “Try again.”
“Listen,” grumbled Cavalon, “if we wanted to jump you do you think one little bow and arrow would stop us?”
She hesitated, her bow lowering slightly and her grip on the pull relaxing a fraction before it was turned directly to aim at Cavalon. “Who are you?”
“Me in particular?”
“Answer the question,” she growled.
“Cavalon Amenti.”
This time when the figure moved, she released the pull on the string and lowered the bow. “You fought in the war in Siness.”
Cavalon glanced at Badru, his brow furrowed. “Yeah.”
The figure stepped farther into the alley so that she could be seen better. She had long brown hair that was draped over her shoulder in a messy braid, brown eyes and a quizzical look about her face. “I fought as well. We never truly met but for passing on the battle field, but we fought on the same side.” She looked up at Badru now, her expression relaxing into recognition. “And you. You came with a cloak of fire and helped turn the tide.”
Badru looked at Cavalon again, slowly turning to the girl with an extended hand. She offered hers in return and Badru pressed it between both of his. “Forgive me, fair maiden, but I believe neither my friend nor I know your name.”
“You wouldn’t,” she told them with a quiet laugh, “and no one has ever called me fair before. I’m Cailin Ó Ceallaigh. I served your high queen when she was still just a princess at Oceana. We were friends when we were younger. She taught me to read in secret and it is thanks to her I am where I am today.”
“You know Ashlynn?” Cavalon questioned.
“Aye, have known her for more than half my life. I served her at her uncle's castle in Caedia before returning here to my homeland. It was she who spoke to High King Donnchadh and got me a job inside Lerranyth.” She looked down at the two guardsmen laying unconscious on the ground. “What have you done to Marcus and Jamie? What are you trying to do?”
“We’re trying to get in to see your king,” Cavalon answered. “We went up there earlier today, but they said no one was allowed in without an appointment.”
Cailin frowned. “These two told you that? Well that’s blarney. Maybe they just didn’t like the look of you. Two chancers like you coming up to the gatehouse and wanting to see the king, I might tell you the same thing.”
“Can we speak with Donnchadh, then?” asked Badru. “It is a matter of extreme importance.”
Cailin took a breath in and shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s rare he meets with with anyone but his own people these days, and I am not a person on his vast council.”
“Please,” Badru begged quietly. “Cailin, your king may be the last person we can speak to that would have seen one of our fellow Elementals alive.”
She measured the situation for a moment, lips pursed as she thought. Finally, Cailin sighed. “All right, I’ll get you in, but only out of love for Ashlynn. Give these poor lads back their clothes. I’ll not let you leave them to walk the streets naked, though I dare say they wouldn’t be all that adverse to it, the rascals. Come out when you’re done.”
Cavalon waited until Cailin had left the alley to begin stripping off the clothes that did not belong to him. “What are the odds that we’d find someone who works in the castle, knows Ashlynn, and will get us in to see Donnchadh? How in the world did we manage to get so lucky?”
“Not lucky,” Badru corrected, quickly pulling his own clothes back on so he could redress the guardsman. “Divine intervention.” He couldn’t help but smile. “The Great Dragon is on our side. That girl is His answer to our prayers. When I took her hand I could feel the roughness of her skin. She is a Gael.”
“I don’t remember her at all from the war.”
Badru shrugged. “How could you? There were so many people fighting that night that it was hard to know who was friend and who was enemy.”
“Yeah, especially for the guy who didn’t know who was who and decided to just set the whole place on fire.”
“I remember that,” came Cailin’s voice from around the corner. “Nearly had grown men wetting themselves out of fear.”
“And you?” Badru asked as he came out, fully clothed and ready to go. “I bet you were not frightened.”
“Of course I was! Are you mad? I was terrified.” She waited for Cavalon to join them before pushing away from the wall and beckoning the men to follow. “I’d lived my entire life in fear of what had the potential to happen, or not happen as the case may be. That night changed everything for me. I saw how people had come from all seven nations to face death and had done so in spite of fear. I grew a backbone that night.”
“Praise be to the Giver.”
“Aye, praise indeed.” She looked up at Badru. “Are you a fellow Follower, then?”
Badru nodded. “Though not as pious as I once was and should be.”
This made Cailin smile slightly. “We’re all sinners. Sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“Badru Khaliifa, my lady. At your services.”
She shook her head and laughed. “I'm not a lady; no title and certainly no money. You say one of your kin died?”
“Yeah,” Cavalon answered, “and the last place anyone knows of her traveling to was here to meet with your king.”
Cailin frowned. “Was there a specific reason she was coming here?”
“That’s what we’d like to find out.”
“All right then. Stay close and for heaven’s sake keep your mouths closed. I’ll let you know when you can speak.”
Badru did not bother to hide his grin. “As the lady commands.”
Chapter Nine
They approached the gate for the second time that day. Cavalon’s golden eyes traveled the length of the battlement and took note of where every guard was stationed. As before, two men were in charge of the gate, only this time they were at their proper stations and not lazing about in the ditch. They looked at one another before the one on the left spoke. “Do you have an appointment?”
Cailin’s eyes narrowed. “Are you new to the king’s guard?” She lifted her right hand and showed him a ring on her middle finger. “I don’t need an appointment. I come and go as I will. Now you can let me and my companions pass untroubled or face the words of your high king once I do get inside and report the short comings of his newest recruit.”
“Oi!” One of the men from atop the battlement called down to the other two. “It’s Cailin. Let her in.”
“Sorry, Cailin,” said the other guard. “It was dark and we didn’t recognize you.” He glanced purposefully at the two men with her and she raised an eyebrow.
“All right then. You recognize me now. Open the gates.”
“Open the gates!”
As Cailin stepped forward to watch the gate rise, she could practically hear the grin in Badru’s voice when he offered, “Well done,” in a quiet tone. She did not smile, but there was definite amusement in her eyes.
Passing under the heavy gate and into the open courtyard of Lerranyth was like stepping into another town. The ground was stone, not dirt, and there were peddlers and merchants in here that were not in the town below. These were higher priced items and things of better quality, and the people that shopped looked as though they could have been royalty themselves. There were blocks of housing, a smithery, spinners, and weavers. In the very center stood the gallows with enough rope to hang four grown men.
“I have never seen a castle set up like this,” Cavalon said quietly. He casually inspected a carthorse that passed him. “It’s like the castle has two of its own towns.”