The Halfling Rises (The Eva Chronicles Book 1)

by Livia Lance

  Smiling, she took his arm and they continued to stroll around the shopping district. He paused at the weaponsmith. There were barrels outside filled with various types of weapons but Clay knew what he was looking for. He approached the quarterstaves and began pulling them out one by one and examining them from tip to tip. Lana watched him with an amused expression.

  After going through most of the weapons in the barrel he finally found exactly what he wanted. It was white oak, slightly shorter than he was tall and, most importantly, it had the marking at the end that told him this was elven made. It would have come from a limb that fell from a tree rather than one that had been cut down. The weight and balance were good, not as good as Lana’s, but it would suffice. He hefted the staff experimentally as the weaponsmith made his way over to the potential customers.

  “It’s a beautiful piece,” he told Clay. “Made by the elves. Now, I know they’re dangerous creatures but they make good weapons. Solid.”

  “Hmm,” Clay said, eyeing the staff in his hand as if he wasn’t sure about it. “Seems a little weak to me, it might just crack in two the first time I hit anything with it.” This was completely untrue but he knew about dickering and the first rule was to underestimate the worth of whatever you want to buy.

  “No, sir!” the man exclaimed. “Why, you could hit a stone wall with all your strength with that staff and it wouldn’t even show a scuff! It’s three silver, thank you very much.”

  Clay laughed as if the man had told a great joke. “Three silver? For this? No, I think one silver is probably the best I can do.”

  They began arguing over the price, the weaponsmith making grand declarations over the weapon’s finer points and Clay maintaining his uncertainty about its value. Eventually, Clay parted with a silver and some coppers, pleased at getting such a good deal. The smith, on the other hand, was not happy at all, but as soon as he turned to his other customers, he was all smiles and grand declarations again.

  Lana had watched this exchange with a look of quiet amusement.

  “Wanted one of your own?” she asked him, arching an eyebrow.

  “Yeah,” he said. “A quarterstaff has a lot of uses. Perhaps I’m tired of stumbling through the underbrush.” He winked at her.

  Lana laughed, a sound he could never get tired of hearing, and took his arm again. As they shopped, he noticed her becoming more comfortable. She began talking with the shopkeepers and with him. She was animated and it no longer felt like she was clutching his arm out of fear. She held onto him in a more companionable way.

  He had been shocked to hear about what a sad, solitary life Lana had led. He knew that she’d been kept out of the public eye but he had no idea how far her family had gone to keep her safe. Looking back, he remembered their first walk through the forest and saw it in a new light. Her wide eyed wonder at the canopy of trees above them. Her frightened curiosity, like a skittish cat. Her way of staying silent and waiting for him to explain things rather than putting her ignorance on display. It was yet another layer added to this already complex and intriguing woman on his arm.

  They arrived back at the tavern and he looked around for Nym but the dice game was over and the table empty. She must have already retired for the night. Sleep sounded like a good idea to him, so he led Lana back up to their room and shut the door behind him, barring it for good measure. Coalfell was a reasonably safe town, but you could never be too careful. He propped his quarterstaff next to Lana’s and turned toward her.

  She was watching him in that quiet way of hers, as if she were waiting to see what he would do next. Her hands were clasped at her waist, her back straight and her chin lifted, every inch a princess. Just the sight of her like this was enough to make it hard to breathe. He took an involuntary step toward her, unable to stop himself and she responded by taking a step back, never breaking eye contact. There was a look of challenge in her eye, as if she were almost daring him to chase her, to catch her.

  He stopped, watching her watching him, not sure of what to do next. He finally looked away and his gaze fell on the bed. They had slept next to each other every night since Nym had joined them and it no longer felt strange, but this was different. It was a bed rather than the ground and they were alone.

  “I will make a pallet on the floor,” he told her, hoping to set her at ease. “You should have the bed. I’m used to rough conditions.”

  “Nonsense,” she replied at once, turning away. “The bed is large enough for both of us. I trust that you will be a gentleman.” She swept her cloak off and hung it on a peg on the wall. Removing her coat and shoes, she sat at the table and started brushing her hair with an ivory comb she had purchased earlier in the day. He watched her for a moment but she was studiously ignoring him so he hung up his own cloak and began preparing for bed himself.

  He was stretched out on his back under the covers when she finally blew out the lamp and joined him. There was a good foot or so of space between them and he was very aware of every single inch. The urge to reach out and clasp her hand or stroke her hair was almost more than he could take so he turned on his side, facing away from her and tried to pretend that he was alone. Her soft breathing didn’t help and sleep was a long time coming.

  * * *

  Lana woke the next morning feeling more rested than she had since her escape from Loral. She opened her eyes groggily and tried to get her bearings. She was loath to leave this soft, warm bed and start traveling again but she knew she must rise soon. With a start, she realized that she was no longer on her side of the bed. At some point in the night, she and Clay had shifted until they were together in the middle. He was laying up against her back with his arm around her waist.

  Not wanting to wake him and unsure of what she should do next, Lana went very still. Part of her wanted to stay exactly where she was and enjoy the feeling of being close to him but another part wanted to run from the room. As she was warring with herself, she realized that his breathing had changed. It was no longer the soft, slow breaths of slumber. He had woken up as well. Lana pretended to be asleep, waiting to see what he was going to do. If he pulled her closer she wasn’t sure if she would have it in her to stop him. She wasn’t sure she would want him to stop.

  After a moment, he carefully removed his hand from her waist and turned to lay on his back. She softly let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and closed her eyes, relieved and disappointed. She could feel Clay rise from the bed and heard his footsteps as he walked around to her side. He put his hand on her arm and shook her lightly.

  “Lana,” he said softly. “Wake up. We must depart soon.”

  Lana opened her eyes slowly and nodded at him, unable to speak quite yet. Clay put on his shoes and cloak and began gathering their belongings. She rose and did the same, shooting one last look at the bathtub. She wondered when she would be able to bathe again. Sighing, she turned away and followed Clay out the door.

  They found Nym downstairs, seated at a table with her own belongings and waiting for them. She smiled widely as they joined her. A serving girl came by and brought bowls of oatmeal with fruit and cups of warm cider.

  “Those men I was dicing with thought they could take me for all of my coin, or take me to bed,” Nym told Lana conspiratorially. “They were sorely disappointed in both cases. How did you enjoy the town?”

  “Oh, it was fine,” she said, slightly shocked at the woman’s forthrightness. “I bought a few things for our journey but I’m ready to go. I want to see my new homeland.”

  Nodding in understanding, Nym finished her bowl of oatmeal and threw back the last of her cider. She stood, stretching out her long limbs and told them she’d collect the horses and wait for them outside.

  Lana and Clay finished their food in silence and went to join Nym. After stopping by the seamstress to pick up Lana’s clothing and purchasing more provisions for the rest of their trip, they departed Coalfell and set off to the east, toward Eva. A land where she could be free to live her life as she sa
w fit. A land where she could belong and find peace.

  Braving the Mountains

  The party stopped to make camp later that evening while there was still some light on the horizon. It was chilly and Lana thought she would like to simply curl up in her blankets and listen to some of the stories Nym would often tell at night about the places she’d seen on her travels, but Clay had other ideas.

  She was seated on her bedroll when he approached, offering her his hand. Frowning, she looked up at him towering above her. They’d had a long day of travel and she was not keen on standing again until she absolutely had to. Leaning on his staff, he sighed.

  “Come on, this will be fun,” he said. “I promise.”

  She regarded him for a moment longer, then relented, taking his hand and allowing him to help her rise. He snatched her staff up off the ground and handed it to her, then turned and walked away from the camp. She followed him, curious.

  He led her to an open, flat area, a good spot for practice. Was he going to continue training her?

  “I thought you might be ready to start sparring,” he said with a grin. “Fighting against the air is one thing, fighting an opponent is another. I promise I’ll be gentle.”

  Lana narrowed her eyes at him, sensing the challenge and rising to it. She grasped her staff in both hands, not too tightly, and set her stance. She no longer felt tired, only focused.

  This length of wood was an enigma to her. She remembered when she had heard it fall to the ground in the small wooded area that she and Nym had been exploring…

  She touched the tree as she passed by and felt its love for her. The land here seemed to be happy to see an elf, even a halfling like herself. They continued walking but she heard a soft thump behind her, turned back and saw it. There was a staff, just laying there at the foot of the tree as if it had always been there and she felt drawn to it…

  When she’d first started practicing with it the way Clay had taught her, she was amazed at how natural it felt. Nothing like the bow and arrow, which were clumsy and awkward in her hands. The staff felt like an extension of herself, as if she’d grown a new limb but it was a limb she’d always had and could use without thought.

  Sparring was a lot different than practicing on her own and Clay was putting her through her paces. Lana went into position, as she’d been taught. Mirroring her stance, Clay advanced, swinging the upper part of the staff in an effort to connect, but she caught him easily. He circled around her and then tried to go lower. She stopped him again. Was he holding back? Well, she would show him what she could do.

  Lana went very still and waited for the next strike. When it came, she nimbly leapt out of the way and swept the staff downward, catching the bottom tip of his weapon and startling him enough that he lost his grip, effectively disarming him. Laughing, Clay went to retrieve his staff and turned, preparing to face her again.

  This time she advanced on him but he was ready for her. The staves came together again and again as they turned this way and that, each trying to find an advantage. This continued until the light failed them completely and they were exhausted.

  “You are a natural with that thing,” Clay told her admiringly.

  “You probably went easy on me,” she accused him, but she was pleased with his praise.

  “Not even a little. In fact, I think you went easy on me.” He seemed sincere and Lana smiled at him as they walked back to camp. Nym was already asleep so Clay decided he would take first watch and Lana could take the second.

  Sparring had made her physically tired, but her mind was still restless. It was always hard to fall asleep on the nights Clay had first watch. When he was in his bedroll next to her, she felt safe and sleep could find her easily then, but nights like this were another story. She rolled over and watched the flames of the small campfire.

  Her mind was a quagmire of thoughts and memories. She thought of her brother, Jacob, and realized she’d never had a proper chance to grieve for him and now she could add her father to that list. Though he hadn’t been much of a father to her, she did have some fond memories of him. Jacob, on the other hand, had been more of a part of her life. He would come to her room from time to time and talk about the places he’d seen while he was off performing his royal duties. Occasionally, he’d bring her souvenirs from these trips, like a piece of jewelry or a book. He was gone far more often than not but he was the closest family she’d had.

  She tried to summon the tears she needed so badly to shed so she could find relief, but they wouldn’t come. Eventually, her heart heavy, she drifted off to sleep.

  * * *

  Every day and night settled into a routine. The group would break their fast, mount up and start riding eastward. Sometimes the women would ride together, chatting softly while Clay walked a distance away to give them some space. Sometimes he and Lana would double up on their horse while Nym rode ahead or dropped behind to scout. When they were alone, Lana and Clay rarely spoke. It was an easy silence, the kind that naturally forms between two people who are comfortable enough with one another that they no longer need to fill the quiet with words.

  When they stopped for the night, Clay and Lana would practice with their staves. She was an even match for him now, which never failed to amaze him. His years of training with various weapons were up against her extraordinary natural talent and he lost as much as he won when they sparred. Sometimes Nym would take his place, using his quarterstaff with great effect. She was not quite as skilled as he was with the weapon but she made up for it by being much faster.

  The three of them would end their day telling stories to one another. Nym had a vast knowledge of elven lore and could spin a tale as well as any bard. He particularly enjoyed watching Lana while she listened to Nym speak, how animated her face would become, how she would perfectly echo whatever emotion Nym was trying to evoke.

  Every night would end with him stretched out beside Lana, so aware of her presence that he wondered at times what it might feel like to not have her near. He couldn’t imagine such a life.

  The White Mountains had loomed ahead of them for days now, and Clay found himself becoming anxious. He knew that the mountain pass would be difficult at best, especially this time of year when the days were getting shorter and colder. He began rationing their food because soon there would be no opportunities to forage. They all spent some time every day searching out roots and wild berries to restore their provisions. They had to be careful with their grains, some of which would need to be saved for the horses. Soon the poor beasts would be unable to graze.

  Over time, the trees thinned out and finally disappeared along with anything else that was green. The ground was rocky and barren, unrelieved by even the smallest bit of growth. For days, they traveled this empty land as the White Mountains grew larger and larger on the horizon.

  Finally, they arrived at the foot of the mountains. Nym and Lana were mounted and he was walking. He turned and addressed them.

  “This is where things are going to get rough,” he said grimly. “I know a way across that is reasonably safe but we must start right away and we must put this mountain to our backs as soon as we can. The wind here can freeze you to your bones and there are few places to take shelter. Come.”

  He started up the pathway to the pass and his companions followed closely. The footing was good for now, they’d managed to reach the mountains before the snowy season could start. They traveled as quickly as possible, always on a slight incline. He wouldn’t accept Lana’s offer to let him ride or to ride double. The horse needed all of its strength and she weighed less than him.

  After some hours they came to the first rest stop on their way, a cave almost invisible unless you knew where to look. It was large with a high ceiling, which was fortunate because the wind had picked up outside and it wouldn’t be safe for the horses to remain exposed. He started a small fire near the back with some bundled twigs and tree limbs they’d gathered on the way to the mountain. Lana and Nym set their burdens dow
n and spread out their bedding. There was silence as they all tried to get warm again, huddled together near the fire.

  “Tonight, we rest,” he told them. “Tomorrow we travel until we’re on the other side of the mountain and we must get there before nightfall. There are no safe places to camp between here and there.”

  “This cold makes me weary,” Lana said, stifling a yawn. “I cannot stand this for long.”

  “We should stay close tonight and share our warmth,” Nym told them. She had pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “It will be safer that way.” She settled herself next to Lana as Clay spread out his bedding on Lana’s other side. The three of them slept together that night, no one keeping watch because there were no threats on this terrible mountain aside from the elements themselves.

  The next morning was frigid, the wind so cold it hurt. They put on every item of clothing they owned and wrapped themselves up tight with their cloaks. Clay finally climbed up in the saddle with Lana and they began to travel through the pass, pushing the horses as hard as was safe. Time was the enemy here as much as the bitter wind. Clay kept his cloak wrapped around Lana and himself, sharing body heat and he felt badly for Nym who had no one to warm her up. She seemed to be managing just fine on her own, though, sitting up straight with a determined expression as if she was daring the elements to try and slow her down.

  Eventually, they stopped rising and started descending and Clay could have wept in relief. This was the only true threat on the path from Eva to the human lands and they were almost through the worst of it. There was another cave on the way down and they spent that night as they did the other, huddled together to share their warmth.

  * * *

  The next day they began to see small tufts of grass and scraggly trees, signs of life. By the time the sun was setting, they were again on level ground with the mountain at their backs. It wasn’t warm but compared to the heights of the pass, it may as well have been a summer day.