Elsewhere ti-3

by Richard D. Parker

  Gwaynn slowly removed both his kali; the low hiss of the weapons sliding from their scabbards seemed uncommonly loud in the now quiet courtyard.

  Richtner’s eyes went a little wide as he glanced over at Gwaynn, surprised.

  “You would challenge the Tars of Noble?” Richtner asked.

  “You are no Tar,” Gwaynn answered. “And I’d not challenge the good people of Noble, just your hand, which you will lose at the wrist if you do not release her.”

  Richtner grimaced and for the first time looked to his partner for support. She was breathing quickly, obviously concerned and a little afraid, but in spite of this she drew her own kali and turned slightly to challenge Gwaynn.

  “Perhaps we should call Tar Riley, Norman,” she said, her voice a little shaky.

  Weapons Master Norman Richter shook his head.

  ‘He was in charge of security here in the courtyard. He would handle this. He had it all under control.’

  “Stay out of this Martha,” Richter said. “I doubt the boy wants to challenge two Weapons Masters.” And with that he began to pull Zarina Monde away. Gwaynn twirled one kali and began the first move to relieve Richter of his right hand.

  “Weapons Master!” a voice sounded from behind Gwaynn, a familiar voice. “If you do not have a death wish I suggest you release the High Zarina at once.”

  Richter blanched but did not release Monde.

  “Yes,” the Traveler said. “Tar Nev would not be pleased.” Richter quickly jerked his hand away.

  Gwaynn smiled and turned to see Tar Endid striding toward him.

  “You’ve come to petition, Gwaynn Massi?” Endid asked and slapped Gwaynn hard on his back. Gwaynn grimaced but smiled. Richter went a further shade of white at the mention of Tar Nev’s pupil. As discreetly as possible he began to back away from the group. Weapons Master Martha Simpson smiled to herself and followed.

  “Yes, I’ve come to petition,” Gwaynn answered and from the smile on Endid’s face he got the distinct impression the Tar had been waiting anxiously for this day.

  There were only two events that could bring the training on the island of Noble to a standstill, one of course was the yearly Competitions and the other was a petition for aid from a Family against either another Family or the High King himself. The Competitions happened every year; the last petition to Noble was over a hundred years prior.

  Word spread like a summer grass fire on a windy day. Endid took Gwaynn and Zarina Monde to the large veranda on the riverside of the Great Hall to wait for the Council’s summons and for High Tar Kostek to return from Euter.

  “He’s been expecting you,” Tar Endid explained as they all sipped on lemon ice. The drink was a favorite of Gwaynn’s and half of his attention was caught up trying to remember the last time he’d enjoyed a glass.

  ‘Several years,’ he thought and suddenly wished that Samantha were with him to enjoy the treat.

  “Why aren’t you with your students?” Monde asked Tar Endid and Gwaynn snapped out of his dreamy thoughts.

  Endid laughed and the sound reminded Gwaynn of Tar Nev. “Oh, I’ve got them running. Running near fifteen miles today. Someone from Mneme quarter will beat the Lady Vio in this year’s run at the Competitions. If we don’t it won’t be from lack of training.”

  “Vio,” was all Gwaynn said and smiled. He found himself very anxious to see her again.

  “Yes,” Endid said with a slight frown. “My bet is on the Lady Bethany. She’s a third year now and has become very driven in her studies.”

  The name tugged at Gwaynn’s mind. “Lady Bethany,” he said absently.

  Endid was grinning again. “Yes, she’s Massi and one of your biggest fans,” he added. “She’s likely to want to join you once she hears of the petitio…..”

  “That’s enough Tar Endid,” a woman’s voice said from behind them. Gwaynn turned and watched as three Tars walked out on to the veranda.

  Endid stopped talking but seemed nonplussed by the interruption. “Tarina Ethelridge…you remember Prince Gwaynn Massi.”

  “Of course,” the Tarina said and offered a hand to Gwaynn who was now standing in greeting. Gwaynn took her hand and placed a brief kiss on the white of her knuckles then he straightened up to his full height.

  “You’ve grown,” the Tarina commented, thinking back to that crucial council meeting a year…no two years ago. Time was getting out of hand.

  Gwaynn did not reply to her comment just turned to the others. Tarina Ethelridge followed his gaze.

  “May I introduce Tar Piros and Tar Eichmann, both of the Council.”

  “Yes, we all were privileged enough to see you fight in the Grand Hall…extraordinary,” Tar Piros commented while taking Gwaynn’s hand.

  Both men were old, well past their prime and the Tarina, though still handsome and much younger than her male counterparts, was still well old enough to be Gwaynn’s mother.

  “High Zarina,” Piros added, greeting the Traveler as well, and minutes later after all the various greetings they all sat down, though the atmosphere on the veranda was now distinctly less casual.

  “It’s being said all over Herra that you’ve come to petition the Council,” the Tarina Ethelridge finally said.

  Gwaynn nodded. “Yes that’s true.”

  The Tarina shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid then you’ve have come all this way for nothing.”

  “Tarina Eth….” Tar Endid began but fell silent as she gave him a commanding look.

  “You see Prince Gwaynn, you are not the recognized ruler of Massi and therefore are not in a position to petition for aid,” the Tarina continued.

  Gwaynn was about to protest when he caught a whisper of a movement flutter by his consciousness. ‘Zebo,’ he thought, but could not have said why. He glanced over at the Traveler Monde, who sat frozen, expression blank.

  “I am the heir and ruler of Massi,” Gwaynn spoke up quickly, not truly caring what the Tarina Ethelridge thought. He would still make his petition to Noble Island.

  She smiled a blandly at him. “Of course you may try, but do not be too disappointed if your words go unheeded.”

  Gwaynn was only half-listening; part of his attention was still riveted on Zarina Monde. Zebo making contact could only mean one thing; the Temple Knights had arrived in Massi.

  “I will still offer my petition,” Gwaynn added, his heart hammering in his chest, worry for Samantha and the unborn baby rampaging about in his mind.

  “And you should,” a familiar voice said from the door. Gwaynn looked up and saw Kostek, his old teacher and new High Tar, standing in the doorway.

  Tarina Ethelridge frowned. “That will be for the Council to decide,” she said briskly.

  Tar Kostek smiled, though to Gwaynn it seemed more than a little sad. “As High Tar I am head of the Council,” he informed the Tarina.

  “Yes, but may I remind you High Tar, that you are not The Council.”

  Kostek nodded. “And may I remind you Tarina Ethelridge that neither are you.”

  The Tarina sat silent in her chair for a moment glaring at High Tar Kostek. He ignored her.

  “Prince Gwaynn, High Zarina Monde, might I have a word with you…” he glanced around briefly, “in private,” he added and motioned for the two to join him.

  They rose immediately and began following him from the veranda. “Tar Endid,” Kostek said and the young Tar vaulted from his seat, a wide smile on his face.

  “The Knights have landed south of Drake and are moving on Cape,” Monde whispered quietly to Gwaynn once they were in the hall. Gwaynn bent low to hear her words. “The Rhondono are challenging the Toranado at the Gap.”

  Gwaynn straightened back up and continued to follow along behind Tar Kostek. He wasn’t surprised by the news, just dismayed. It was all coming too fast; they needed more time to make preparations. As they moved toward the High Tar’s private quarters he wondered if his General was having better luck persuading the Cassinni.

  ǂ
<
br />   Lonogan Bock was kissing Traveler Jess na Gall, and in his mind kissing her well, at least until she suddenly jumped back from him like a shot. She stood less than a foot from him, her eyes wide and passionate; her cheeks were flushed and tinged a bright pink which momentarily confused Bock, after all she was no longer a young lass.

  “Monde,” she whispered in explanation then she closed her eyes and her face went slightly blank, after a moment a dim haze appeared in center of the gazebo where moments before the two of them were sitting and talking, then standing and kissing. He hadn’t meant to kiss her, hadn’t even considered it an option. Oh, she was attractive enough, too attractive by far. But he was not so foolish as to believe that someone like na Gall would entertain the idea of kissing him back. Even now he was having a hard time believing it, though moments before she seemed enthusiastic enough.

  ‘I must be a fool,’ he thought, trying to pry his eyes from her moistened lips. When he finally succeeded in forcing them away, they went right back like disobedient children hunting candy.

  “Hello High Zarina,” na Gall finally said as she completed the connection.

  “na Gall,” Monde answered. “Is General Bock with you?”

  Jess looked quickly into Lonogan’s eyes and had to fight down the urge to giggle.

  ‘Get a grip,’ she thought to herself. “Yes, he’s here.”

  “Lonogan,” the voice of Gwaynn Massi said through the mist. “How goes it on your end?”

  Bock’s smile faded slightly and he was finally able to tear his mind from the thought of kissing the beautiful Traveler before him, nevertheless he licked his lips absently.

  “Slowly,” na Gall answered. “We have an audience with King Marc this evening. My father is returning to Parma later this afternoon and will escort us.”

  There was a pause then Gwaynn’s disembodied voice asked. “Zarina na Gall, how soon will you be able to Travel?”

  “Travel?” na Gall replied momentarily confused and saddened. She was enjoying her time with her family, and her relative alone time with Lonogan. She was surprised by her powerful emotions when she was near the man, though she’d recognized her attraction to the Massi General long ago. It was only last night that her feelings for him truly blossomed, and he hadn’t done a thing. He just slept in the guest bedroom of the house she grew up in, but the fact that he was so close and in a place so familiar to her helped her to realize just how strongly her feelings for him had become. Late the previous night, or more accurately very early this morning, she’d risen very thirsty and passed his room. The moon was bright and in the dim light she could see that he was lying, shirtless under a thin sheet, half on his side but mostly on his stomach. His hair was tousled but his face was as sweet and serene as a young boy’s. Her heart, like a tumbler, did a little flip and continued to flip regularly ever since.

  “To Massi?” she asked.

  “Yes. The Temple Knights have landed.”

  She glanced at Bock in time to see his face fall, even though the news was expected. Her heart did another flip as she thought perhaps his disappointment matched her own at the prospect of leaving Parma and her childhood home.

  “I’m not sure…several days,” she answered, wondering just where the Knights were located. She could Travel to Heron from here, but would be hard pressed to jump from there to Manse without further rest.

  “Perhaps you should Travel to Noble,” Monde said, interrupting her thoughts, “then we can all make the trip to Manse together.”

  na Gall thought about this for a moment, frowning until Lonogan reached out and took her hand in his. Her heart jumped again and she gave him a small smile. “I may be able to Travel to Noble by tomorrow, late afternoon or early evening.”

  “Good!” Gwaynn and Monde said in unison, and then they heard Monde chuckle. “Plan on it,” the Zarina continued. “I’ll contact you soon.”

  “As you wish,” na Gall answered.

  “Win the Cassinni for us,” Gwaynn added as the Speaker bubble slowly disappeared.

  After it was fully gone, Lonogan and Jess stood close together, still holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes. Both wanted to resume kissing, but each felt that somehow, after such horrendous news, it would be the height of selfishness to do so. And even though Lonogan Bock was completely taken with the woman in front of him, his mind refused to stay present and kept darting back across hundreds of miles of water to his army in Massi. Worry caused his brows to furrow slightly and na Gall reached up and caressed his cheek, bringing him fully back to Parma.

  “Tomorrow,” she said and then she kissed him again, silently dismissing all the reasons why she should not do so.

  ǂ

  Prince Phillip Toranado pushed back from the front lines and headed to the rear, away from the fighting. Arrows fell sporadically around him, but he paid them no mind. He could do nothing about them in any case. If he was hit, he was hit. There was no possible way to avoid them in such close quarters. He was just happy that the Rhondono had so few archers.

  “This way M’lord,” the messenger said, leading Phillip back through the lines of grimy, sweaty soldiers, until finally they were in a safe zone. They were now far enough back that the enemy archers could not threaten them but even so they were still surrounded by soldiers. The Scar Gap was only around a hundred yards across in this area with a pair of steep rocky cliffs on either side, hemming the fighting in. To make matters tighter, tall pines grew close to the rock face and just the center channel was clear of obstacles. The narrow confines allowed for only a limited engagement, less than two hundred men could face off at any one time. It was a place where a small group of determined fighters could hold off a much larger force, Captain Jima and his small band of soldiers had illustrated the fact quite nicely not six months ago when he held up the entire Deutzani army for nearly a month. But the narrows of the Gap also made for intense, high energy fighting as fresh troops were constantly rotated forward to relieve the tired, the wounded or the dead. Prince Phillip, thanks to the heavy training he received with Gwaynn and the Massi, had occupied his position at the front for well over an hour, hacking and stabbing at the enemy. When the messenger arrived he was nearing the end of his stamina, so he did not argue too much at the idea of moving back for a rest. Plus a sword tip grazed him in his right side. It was a minor wound, but it needed to be tended, plus a few ribs were beginning to bark at him from hard blows his chain mail managed to deflect.

  “It’s a relatively small force of Rhondono soldiers,” Captain Trammel said as Phillip stretched his right arm up over his head and gingerly felt his ribs with his left hand. The two men walked side by side through the outskirts of the camp and into the large command tent. Doctor Ryebald moved forward and began pulling off the Prince’s armor. Phillip allowed her to do so without complaint, feeling that he might need a few stitches before heading back to the fighting.

  “How…” Phillip began.

  “Laynee,” Trammel answered with a nod at the girl who sat quietly in one corner watching closely as the doctor stripped the top layer of clothes off the Prince. She colored slightly as Phillip smiled at her.

  “What of the Knights?” he asked her, no longer uncomfortable with the fact that so much depended on such a young girl…a pretty one at that.

  ‘She is going to be a rare beauty when she blooms,’ he thought as his gaze swept over the small Traveler and he noticed for the first time that her young breasts were now quite prominent, though when they first appeared he could not say. She noticed his look and her face colored a bit more, but she did not try to hide or cover herself. She wanted him to look…desperately wanted him to look.

  “Zebo says they’re still nearly a hundred miles from Cape,” she answered and allowed her own gaze to travel over his body. She winced slightly at the bloody gash in his right side, and quickly looked away as Ryebald began sewing.

  Phillip caught the young girl’s expression and chuckled then winced as the thick needle pierced h
is skin.

  “It’s not a large force,” Tabernas said as he pulled the tent flap aside and strode in, his hair slick with sweat and matted against his head and neck. He stopped short as he caught sight of the doctor with his Prince.

  Phillip shrugged. “It’s nothing,” he said then added. “We’ll leave come dark, move back to Manse.”

  No one said anything, but they all felt the same regret. They could force their way through the Scar Gap eventually, a small force could not hold them up forever, but each knew it could hold them up long enough for the Knights to cross the open plains of Massi and trap them in the narrow confines. And if that happened they would be fighting on two fronts and in all likelihood be destroyed.

  “The Rhondono have been giving ground all day, tempting us to move farther into the Gap,” Tabernas said flopping down in a chair. He was tired. He’d done his share of killing. He hoped the Rhondono force facing them was indeed expendable, because they were taking a beating against the Toranado heavy infantry.

  Phillip nodded. “They’re underestimating us if they think we would fall for such an obvious trap.”

  “Yes, or they want us to think they are underestimating us,” the Weapons Master quipped.

  Phillip thought about that for a long moment, considering this new angle, then barked out a laugh.

  “If I believed that, I would be overestimating them. No one that’s subtle,” he said and then glanced again at the young Traveler. She sat there gazing at him with her long hair and large eyes.

  “How far can you project?”

  Laynee shrugged. “I practice every other day. It makes me tired,” she answered then jumped down off the table she was sitting on and shook her hair free so that it rippled down her back like a long blonde river of silk. Tabernas smiled at the young girl’s obvious advances toward the Prince.

  ‘They learn so young,’ he thought, ‘or perhaps it’s instinctual.’