Fury Lingers: Book One of The Foreseen Trilogy

by Ethan Spears

  She didn’t doubt it. The keep was as tall as six human buildings stacked on top of one another, its two towers climbing higher still, jutting upwards like fingers, their conical roofs purple. From the top of the towers, the view of the surrounding town would doubtless be absolute. “How many people live in this thing?”

  Aoden shrugged. “I’ve never been inside a castle myself, so I’m not too clear on that. It might have been just the family of the governor since most of those working within could just as easily live in town. If the servants live in the keep, there could be dozens here. The largest castles could host hundreds.”

  As they approached the gatekeeper, he moved from his post to the center of the road, standing proud and tall (as much as a halfling can) in a suit of chainmail, one hand on his waist and the other on a halberd, its shaft planted firmly on the ground. They paused a short distance away and bowed.

  “Who approaches the Blue Embassy and what business do you have here?” the guard announced, his eyes fixed straight ahead rather than on the elves.

  Neither of them saw what made this place ‘blue,’ what with its walls of black stone and purple roofs, but the nonsensical names were no longer surprising. “I am Aoden Halfelven, and this is Mergau of family Gundruc. I have been sent to discuss matters of some urgency with Master Cofus Benderbury.”

  “Are you expected?”

  “No, but I’m a friend. If you give Master Benderbury my name, I expect he’ll be more than willing to see me.”

  As the halfling turned to call up the wall, his proper posture faltered just enough for him to frown suspiciously. One of the crossbowmen disappeared behind a merlon, then the guardsman returned to his stance, waiting for word in silence.

  “Well,” said Aoden, “this might take a bit.”

  “How many people work in this castle?” Mergau asked the guard. “Do they live here?”

  The guard didn’t answer, merely staring straight ahead.

  “Do you know the answer?” she asked.

  Nothing.

  “Can you at least nod yes or no?”

  Nothing.

  Mergau turned to Aoden. “Okay, then.”

  “Protocol,” said Aoden. “What can you do?”

  A few minutes passed in silence.

  “So,” said Mergau, looking around, “’the Blue Embassy.’ Why blue?”

  Aoden shrugged. “I think halflings just have a strange sense of humor.”

  Without announcement, the gate creaked as two halflings pushed the doors open from the inside.

  “Welcome to the Blue Embassy,” said the guard. “Please proceed directly to the keep. To answer your questions: sixty-eight, some do, yes, no, nothing, and blue is a nice color, so why not. We hope you enjoy your stay.”

  The halflings opening the gate bowed and beckoned the elves to follow. They lead them up the stone path towards the keep, passing an unused stable, a blacksmith, and a building of unknown purpose that had been converted into servants’ quarters. As they approached the front door, the two halflings scampered ahead and opened it, bowing to a graying halfling as he passed through.

  “Welcome!” he said exuberantly, shaking Aoden’s hand and kissing Mergau’s, to her surprise. “I am Elgar, Master of Appointments. Master Benderbury expresses his delight at your visit and regrets he is currently occupied. If you would like, you may use our guest quarters to freshen up while you wait. Master Benderbury should be no longer than an hour.”

  “Thank you,” said Aoden, “that would be lovely.”

  Elgar bowed and called a servant. The servant, clad in a fuchsia vest trimmed with yellow and a matching fez, bade them follow as he trotted down the hallway.

  The interior was large and fairly opulent, though the grander decorations left by the humans had been torn down or tossed away as the halflings turned it to their own purposes. The walls were made of large, square marble slabs, shining white and splashed with gray and black, the faintest outlines of old tapestries still visible. The ceiling was dotted with brass chandeliers that hung at various heights, though far lower than they would have had humans still lived here. If Mergau took a running leap, she was sure she could touch the lower ones.

  The servant showed Mergau through one door with a bow before leading Aoden to the room adjacent, then took his leave. The door was heavy oak, whatever image originally painted on it smothered under a layer of forest green.

  Inside was a circular room centered around a black stone table and chairs that stood out brilliantly against the white marble walls. Along the curved walls were bookshelves and sofas, a desk of whitish wood, a cabinet full of glass flatware and cutlery, and a decadent hanging mirror that spanned a quarter of the room. On either side of the mirror were doors, doubtless the bed and bath.

  Aoden was still admiring the fine furniture when another knock came at the door. Aoden called for them to enter. A different servant entered and bowed apologetically.

  “Master Elf,” said the halfling, “I’m afraid we’ve been unable to locate your luggage. We apologize for the inconvenience. We’re searching for it as we speak.”

  “Oh, no,” said Aoden, waving away the apology, “we didn’t bring any luggage.”

  “Sir?” asked the halfling.

  He realized how odd it would look for a diplomat to arrive with no luggage in tow. “It was lost on the way,” he said. “Unfortunate business on the road. I don’t suppose you have a spare set of elf-sized clothing lying around? It wouldn’t do for me to appear before Master Benderbury in these travel-stained clothes.”

  “It’s possible, sir. Do you know your measurements?”

  Aoden told him. “If you can also find something for my companion, she would be appreciative. Don’t let her measurements fool you; she’ll need a dress two sizes larger than she seems.”

  The halfling laughed. “I bet my wife wishes she knew such a trick. I’ll see what I can do, sir.”

  Alone again, Aoden became acutely aware of the stickiness of the silk and leather on his skin. He let himself into the bathroom, finding the porcelain tub already full of water. He stuck in a finger; it was delightfully warm, filled only minutes ago. He chortled appreciatively as he peeled off his clothes, placing them in a pile on a table outside the door; in human custom, that meant he wanted them cleaned, but he was unsure how halflings did things. They had borrowed nearly everything else from humans, so hopefully they got the hint.

  As he soaked, he was glad he didn’t look in the mirror. In their haste to reach Cofus, they had taken no time to bathe so he must have looked a sorry mess. Certainly, a high-ranking diplomat expected a clean guest rather than a road-soiled elf. Then again, perhaps the delay was engineered to give Aoden a chance to wash up. Cofus was shrewd enough to preempt that potential faux pas.

  Halflings prided themselves on being forthright, but Aoden was still relieved that Cofus had been telling the truth about his position. Perhaps everything would work out for the better after all and the seers’ endless meddling with him and Mergau would come to an end. Preferably soon.

  When he left the bath, he found his clothes and armor had indeed been taken, replaced with an outfit of fine red silk, belonging to some human noble from before the Fury. It was in impeccable condition despite its age and disuse. It fit him better than a comparable elf-cut ensemble which wouldn’t account for his broad shoulders. The trousers were a bit old-fashioned, being baggy at the bottom in a style that was popular many years before the Fury, but the shirt was ageless, a buttonless pull-over with long sleeves that fit snugly; modest yet designed to display the physique. The black leather dance shoes were a bit tighter than he would have liked but, looking at himself in the mirror, he thought he cut a dashing figure. The image was spoiled only by the light stubble on his face. He wished for a razor, but not enough to bother a servant.

  He helped himself to a platter of fruit that had been set on the table while he bathed. Aside from local berries and apples and pears, there was mango and kiwi mixed in, meaning
the halflings had trade routes open with Telmari to the west. That was interesting news. He wondered if the halflings had a fleet of trading ships that the elves didn’t know about or if they only received incoming merchants. Either way, it offered a possible explanation as to where all the decorations had gone: traded to the Telmarine for who-knows-what, though he ventured a guess that the halflings’ notoriously poor craftsmanship would cause any Telmarine merchant worth his salt to bring weapons and armor.

  There was another knock at the door, one he recognized immediately as Mergau’s, being higher and harder than a halfling’s. “Come in,” he said, pushing his chair back and standing.

  Mergau entered, still wearing her traveling clothes and carrying a blue dress in her arms. “How do you stand this place?” she said, eying the high ceiling. “It’s so cold and close. I feel trapped.”

  “You’ve never been in a stone building before, have you?” he asked. “Handock was all stone since it was the site of a quarry. Few buildings contained wood at all. If anything, this place is more like home to me than any town we’ve seen so far.”

  Mergau shivered. “I wouldn’t want to be alone here. I find this place unwelcoming.”

  “I think our hosts would be distressed to hear that, but we shouldn’t be here long. Why don’t you bathe in the meantime? If you’re discomforted, just remember I’m right outside.”

  Mergau’s face turned red. “And share your water?”

  “I meant I’ll wait in your room while you use your own bath, not mine. And what’s wrong with my water, anyway?”

  “Maybe it’s different for your people, but unless it’s a river, bathing water is rarely shared by orcs except among family or lovers. Especially not you, since—” She stopped abruptly, turning redder still.

  She could have meant any number of things, like ‘you’re an elf,’ or ‘we’re filthy from our travels,’ but Aoden knew she was about to say, ‘because you killed my brother.’

  No doubt it was a reflexive thought. He shouldn’t be surprised since they’d only recently come to terms with one another, but he couldn’t help but taste the bitterness. Even if unconsciously, there was a part of her that looked at him and saw a murderer.

  He took a deep breath, trying to not be affected either towards anger or shame.

  “Well,” he said measuredly, “It’s a good thing that’s not what I intended, then. Go to your bath and I’ll wait for you in the main room.”

  “Right. Th-thanks,” she mumbled. She looked humiliated by her slip-up, and Aoden softened; being civil in this strange partnership was far more difficult for her than it was for him so he should appreciate that she was trying, even if she didn’t always succeed. The least he could do was remember that.

  In truth, they had been getting along since the revelations of that night with Tabir, certainly better than they had been before. Now that their history was out in the open, the majority of the tension and reticence between them had vanished and they were having mutual conversations, though this relationship would never be normal.

  Mergau’s room was almost identical to his, the sole difference being a long brown lounging chair. She dropped her travel clothes out through the bathroom door, closed it, and soon he could hear her sloshing into the bath. She was barely in there a minute when a tiny knock came at the door, yet another servant with some news.

  “Ah, Master Halfelven,” she said with a bow. “Master Benderbury is ready to have an audience with you. Is the lady here as well?”

  “She’s bathing at the moment. We’ll come as soon as she’s done.”

  “Very good, sir.” The halfling entered the room and took Mergau’s soiled clothes, then bowed again as she left.

  When Mergau emerged five minutes later, she was wearing the blue dress. The servants had done well in choosing it as it fit her body, but that was the end of the compliments. Her illusory elven face was as beautiful as ever but, without the concealing traveling clothes, Aoden noted that the body of her illusion was broader than most elven women, her powerful arms and back obvious through the gossamer cloth. Her hair was down like usual, and Aoden was clueless as to how to put it up in the formal style elven women preferred—or even if illusory hair could be styled—so it would have to do.

  Though acceptably feminine in her traveling clothes, in this formal attire she looked decidedly less elegant and more brutish.

  Mergau noticed his examination. “Yes?”

  “I was just thinking you look far too tall and strong to be an elven woman.”

  Mergau seemed pleased with the remark, puffing her chest proudly. That only made it obvious that her chest was far too large for an elven women’s, but there was no way he was going to comment on that.

  The servant was waiting outside to show them to Benderbury’s office. She led them up a grand central staircase to the second floor, then up a significantly-less-grand staircase to the third. Through a large white double door, they found a room with several chairs and tables occupied by working halflings and little else. There were four doors in the room, and the halfling knocked on one of them. A familiar voice called for them to enter.

  Benderbury’s office was small and modest. The majority of the walls were covered with bookshelves, scroll cases, tubes for blueprints, mounted maps, and any other paper-based tools for information conveyance one could think of. Near the back of the room were a trio of chairs and a desk, all reddish mahogany, lacquered and shiny. Benderbury himself was standing in front of his desk, hands behind his back and a broad smile on his face.

  “Aoden, my boy,” he said, stepping forward and grasping Aoden’s hand with both of his own. “I did not think I’d be seeing you so soon. It positively warms my heart to see you again and know that you’re doing well.”

  “I could say the same to you, Cofus.”

  “And who is this enchanting young lady?” he added, kissing her hand. Mergau accepted it but quickly wiped her hand on her dress. “Certainly not a diplomat,” he noted, a merry twinkle in his eye, “though I’ve been told I’m quick to make assumptions.”

  “My name is Mergau,” she said.

  “Ah, another elf speaking Krik. It’s music to my ears. And such an interesting accent! Pray tell, what is your role in all this?”

  “Aoden is my mentor in the art of diplomacy,” she said, reciting the story they had agreed upon beforehand. “I hope to be a diplomat one day. Please excuse any clumsiness on my part.”

  “My dear, you will find that people forgive beauty much.”

  “You old philanderer,” Aoden accused.

  Cofus lifted his hands. “Guilty. I happily plead guilty. I hope you don’t mind meeting in my personal office. I have a fancier one downstairs for formal matters, but it’s always a big to-do and doesn’t offer a scrap of privacy. Come, have a seat and tell me what urgent business brings you my way.”

  “You’ll be glad to hear what I have to say,” Aoden said as they sat, “seeing as it relates to the Fury. All those fruitless negotiations might finally pay off.”

  “That would be great news, but something tells me that it won’t be through military cooperation the way I was hoping.”

  “On target as always, though I’d argue we’ve found a better way. You want an alliance to stand up against the Fury, but what if I told you that we might be able to stop the Fury altogether?”

  “I’d say that it would indeed be better, but I don’t see that as likely.”

  “Don’t discount it yet,” said Aoden. “We have good reason to believe there’s a chance of that happening. We’ve been working with a group who believe there’s a way to put a halt to Kenta’s invasion of Nilriel for good. The details are admittedly foggy, but we do know where we need to go and were hoping for cooperation from the halflings to see this deed done. If successful, we could end up saving millions of lives.”

  “And where do you need to go?”

  “To the kingdom of Verka. We plan to find an answer among the lizardfolk and were hoping that the
halfling nation might have some diplomatic ties they could use to help us reach our goal.”

  “My, my,” said Cofus, leaning back in his chair. “That’s a bold request. You’ll have to forgive my memory, but I seem to recall that the elven nation has been fairly flippant when it comes to the old give-and-take. For them to turn around and ask that we assist them while remaining unwilling to offer anything in return is unreasonable. It’s also a bold claim, if I may add. What reason would I have to believe that the elves have discovered any such method for halting the second Fury?”

  “For starters, you know that elves can’t lie,” Aoden began.

  “But half-elves can, which is why you’re such a fine negotiator.” There was no accusation to his tone. Rather, he made the remark playfully. Aoden found it irksome regardless.

  “I get the feeling you aren’t taking this as seriously as you should.”

  Cofus laughed. “That may be, but I think you aren’t taking this very seriously either, my boy. You’ve been telling me a lot of half-truths, which I suppose is due to being half-elven.”

  Aoden gave Cofus a sidelong look. “What makes you say that?”

  “Come now, Aoden, there have been half a dozen clues already that you aren’t being honest with me. I can list them, if you’d like.” He didn’t wait for Aoden to accept his offer but bowled on ahead. “Firstly, the elven nation wouldn’t even remember my name much less send someone directly to me. Whilst I’ll admit you could have offered up that information willingly, that assumes you knew about this mission in the first place and there’s no reason that a simple commander would. In fact, they wouldn’t have sent a half-elf to handle such an important task to begin with, no matter how qualified you were for it. They also wouldn’t send someone like Mergau here with you when she still seems blithely unaware of basic etiquette—no offense to my Lady. She’s either a handler or an accomplice. I also doubt the elves would come begging to the halflings to aid them in crossing into Verka no matter what the need. This makes me conclude that you either have a benefactor with more sense than your military leaders, or you’re on a more personal mission.” He pulled his pipe from under his desk, lit it, and popped it into his mouth. “So, how did I do?”