Taren stared into the fire, mostly burned down to embers. Getting up and adding wood to it felt like too much effort, for he felt drained by the long and trying day.
“She seems to have taken a liking to you,” Enelwyn said suddenly.
“Huh? You mean Zylka?”
Enelwyn nodded. She had eyes as blue as the noon sky, and her fair hair was fine like corn silk. “Most odd—I haven’t seen her take to a stranger in such a manner before although we get few visitors. It must be a lonely life with such expectations set upon her.”
“As a commander, you mean?”
“No, as a princess.” Enelwyn laughed softly at Taren’s shocked look. “Her elder brother, Nardual, is king of our people. He took over the throne fifteen summers past. With all Zylka’s official duties, she has little time to travel and meet people, especially outsiders. Don’t worry—she can be intimidating, but now that she’s given you the invitation of guest rights, there’s nothing to fear.”
Taren smiled, relieved to hear that. “She seems pretty, uh… fierce, like a warrior. I’d expect an elven princess to be more, well, I don’t know…” he trailed off lamely.
“Soft? Fragile?” Enelwyn’s cheeks dimpled from her gentle smile.
Taren flushed. “I suppose so… I really have no idea about… uh… anything regarding elven culture, sadly. I shouldn’t have spoken.” He could imagine Zylka swinging a sword and covered in blood before he could picture her sitting in court wearing silk gowns and jewels. “I’d always heard your people would sooner put an arrow through any trespassers in the forest than speak with them or give them aid.”
The elven maid laughed again. “Fear not, Taren. Our people have traditionally been unwelcoming of outsiders for hundreds of years. Not many humans, or any other cultures, are welcomed by our people, but we are not cruel. Nardual and Zylka are of the belief that we should engage more with the other peoples of the realms, a view unpopular among the elders. With Nardual ascending to the throne, those barriers are slowly breaking down although, as an old race, our people take much time and deliberation before making such changes. As to your remark earlier, Zylka’s always taken to the warrior ways more so than the genteel lifestyle.”
Even though Enelwyn spoke kindly, he felt like an ignorant oaf and resolved to keep a better rein on his tongue.
A short time before dawn, Zylka and the two other warriors returned swiftly from the shadows. Even moving at a brisk jog, they barely made a sound.
“I never thought I’d see such scum so boldly set foot in our lands. And with an ogre, of all things. I could smell the stink of the beast from fifty paces downwind.” Zylka’s eyes blazed with anger and disgust. “But you’ve nothing to fear of them any longer. We shall make them rue the day they set foot in our lands.”
She glanced down at Taren and Enelwyn, seated near Elyas. “Come, you are to be our guests, Taren. Let us prepare to move to Egrondel. Enelwyn, will you ask the forest to aid us transporting this man?”
The winsome healer walked over to the nearest oak tree, a huge, ancient thing with an enormous canopy. She placed her hands upon its trunk and chanted softly in Elvish for a few moments.
Taren slipped into his second sight almost without realizing it. He watched a pale-green energy seep from Enelwyn’s hands into the tree. The oak rumbled in response though it was at a level that couldn’t be seen or heard, merely felt. Green waves of earth magic rolled off it, and he watched, awed, as a bud formed upon one of its great boughs. The bud extended, growing out and forming a new branch as he watched. Another sprouted beside it in the same fashion. Both branches grew slender and straight until they were longer than Taren was tall, each about as thick as his arm. Enelwyn held out her arms, and the branches came free and dropped gently into her grasp.
“That’s incredible,” Taren said under his breath. True magic.
“Etenia the Earth Mother favors us,” Zylka replied, eyeing him curiously once more.
Taren hadn’t realized she’d stepped up beside him, and he looked away, embarrassed. He felt like some animal trained to perform tricks under her penetrating gaze. Can’t hide much from her.
Kinnel and the other warrior wrapped their cloaks around the branches to fashion a litter. They gently lifted Elyas although Taren thought it amusing that they appeared surprised at his weight. They placed Elyas on the litter and lifted it.
“What of the horses? Could they bear Elyas?” Taren asked. The two animals regarded them calmly where they were tied to a nearby tree branch.
“I think it will be more comfortable for him to travel as such. My warriors can bear him with ease.” Zylka untied the horses, speaking gently to them and stroking their muzzles and necks, and they nuzzled her in return. “You are welcome to ride if you wish.” She offered Taren the reins.
“Wouldn’t you care to ride, lady? Or Enelwyn perhaps?” He took the reins.
“We prefer to remain afoot. Come, let us return to Egrondel. I have an ambush to plan once we get you two to safety.”
Taren was tempted to ride but decided if the elven maids could both walk, so could he. With Zylka leading the way at a brisk walk, he followed her deeper into the elven kingdom, the horses in tow.
Chapter 23
The group arrived in Egrondel by midmorning. Taren had decided declining to ride one of the horses had been a mistake, for he was exhausted by the swift pace they maintained, even with the two warriors bearing the litter. The elves’ stamina was remarkable.
As they passed from the forest into a wide clearing, Taren looked around in wonder at the elven town’s graceful structures. He estimated at least a hundred buildings were spread out across the meadow. The town was built in total harmony with the nature around it, with the structures designed to embrace the outdoor space. In many instances, the homes looked to have been formed from interwoven trees and plants, as if coaxed into the forms needed. Sunlight gleamed on the elegant buildings of lacquered wood and smoothed bark, a few occasionally built with stone. Lintels and trim were carved with fanciful flowing designs. Brightly colored cloths rippled in a light breeze, forming awnings and partitions of outdoor spaces. Manicured gardens flowed around and through the buildings. A veritable rainbow of wildflowers bloomed throughout on windowsills and roofs and in gardens. Hedges grew in the shapes of deer and foxes and bears. A small waterfall at the edge of the meadow formed a rushing stream that flowed between houses, zigzagging back and forth across the main street, which had small graceful bridges arching over the waterway.
A sentry called a greeting from overhead, and Taren saw a well-concealed wooden platform in one of the trees at the edge of the meadow. Zylka waved in response. Looking around, he saw at least a couple more of the sentry posts located around the clearing as they moved out into the open.
Elves mingled in the streets and lounged on the grass and on porches, many with goblets of wine and baskets of fruit. Many of them wore light, sheer robes of vibrant hues, others loose tunics and breeches as Taren was more accustomed to. A lyrist strummed notes for one of the groups of elves reclining in the grass, her pure lilting voice singing softly in Elvish. Several children were laughing and leaping nimbly across large stones spanning the stream.
Taren looked up toward the far end of Egrondel and saw a much larger building cradled in the boughs of a giant tree. A broad stairwell led up to the structure, which spread around the massive trunk and across the boughs. He counted at least three stories that he could see, with possibly more yet unseen.
Zylka maintained the brisk pace with which she had led the party all morning. Taren had struggled at times to keep up, but he made no complaint. He was weary from the flight from the inquisitors the past day and lack of sleep the previous night, but he figured if the elves bearing Elyas’s weight over the course of miles voiced no complaint, neither would he. Though the two elves bearing the litter did seem to be struggling by the time they reached the town, Kinnel and the other warrior remained silent the entire trip. In fact, the whole g
roup barely spoke a word, but the two warriors’ faces seemed dull somehow, their eyes losing their bright spark. They didn’t sweat or have dark circles beneath their eyes, but all the same, Taren sensed their fatigue by the time they arrived in town.
Zylka paused for a moment and spoke to Enelwyn briefly before turning to Taren. “Enelwyn will show you to some quarters arranged for you and Elyas. Feel free to rest, or if you are hungry, food will be provided. I regret my duties prevent me from showing you around personally, but I’d like you to join me for dinner this evening.”
She stared at Taren until he realized she was awaiting a response. “Uh, yes of course. I’d be delighted, Highness.”
The princess nodded and rapidly strode away along the broad lane through town, in the direction of the large building in the tree. Elves greeted Zylka affably as she passed by, and she responded with smiles and waves but didn’t slow.
The rest of the group followed at a more relaxed pace, for which Taren gave silent thanks. The lane was grassy and soft underfoot but perfectly smooth and flat as if it were a lush carpet covering a smooth road beneath. Taren felt uncomfortable as the elves eyed them curiously, particularly him and Elyas. They didn’t seem particularly unfriendly yet somehow politely aloof.
Enelwyn said her people are yet unwelcoming to humans. I don’t imagine they are thrilled about us being here.
“You’ll be staying in one of the guest rooms of the Daerodil estate. Would you like any food or drink prepared?” Enelwyn asked softly. She seemed aware of Taren’s and the two warriors’ fatigue and was content to amble along slowly.
The thought of a bed was most appealing, but Taren was also hungry, for he’d had little to eat since their stores of food had run out the previous day.
“Food and drink would be welcome. And then a nap, I think.”
The elven maid smiled and nodded. “That shall be arranged, then.”
After a few more minutes, they reached the base of the massive tree holding the Daerodil estate. The tree was gigantic beyond belief, its trunk broader than the farmhouse in which Taren had been raised, and its crown towered high overhead above the canopy of the surrounding trees, at least twice the height of the next tallest. A spiral staircase wound its way around the trunk several times before reaching the estate’s front patio above.
“Would you prefer to use the lift?” Enelwyn asked, noticing him balk at the foot of the stairs.
“No, it’s fine. I can take the stairs.” Taren already felt clumsy and crude around the elves, and he didn’t want to be seen as weak also.
Enelwyn nodded. Kinnel and the other warrior bore Elyas’s litter around the trunk toward the back of the tree. A bell chimed after a moment.
A servant appeared from around the back and offered to tend the horses. Taren handed over the reins and thanked the elf.
As he and Enelwyn set foot on the stairs, he noticed the steps were so cleverly attached as to seem one with the tree, as if the tree had somehow grown in that shape. Recalling Enelwyn summoning the oak staves from the tree earlier made him think it likely the tree truly had been formed in that fashion.
“I’ve never seen such an impressive tree before,” he remarked.
“This is a heartwood tree. Our ancestors grew them from the original seeds brought along from our ancestral homeland when they first arrived on these shores millennia ago.” Her eyes took on a distant look. “You should see Drinleff Kayloria, the heart of the elven nation, for there are dozens of heartwoods growing there, some much more massive than this one, even. Truly a wondrous sight.”
Taren had a hard time imagining so many of the enormous trees. Their roots must grow all the way down to the bones of the world. When they circled to the back of the tree during their ascent, he saw the two warriors standing in a large woven basket, Elyas in his litter braced across the top. Somewhere up above, smoothly rotating pulleys were hoisting the basket upward.
By the time they reached the level of the estate, Taren was out of breath and wishing he’d taken the lift after all. His thighs were burning from the exertion. He walked out onto the broad porch at the top and turned toward the town, hoping Enelwyn wouldn’t see how out of breath he was. Gazing over the town below, he noted even the peaks of the tallest houses didn’t reach the level of the deck beneath his feet.
He felt an uncomfortable vertigo for a moment and stepped away from the edge. Wouldn’t want to lose my footing on those steps and go tumbling all the way down. Or drink too much and fall over the edge.
Enelwyn waited patiently nearby, neither the least bit out of breath nor making any comment about his fatigue. When he had recovered his breath and rejoined her, she gestured politely for him to enter the estate.
The manse was a light cream color with brown trim. More of the decorative patterns like those he’d seen in the town were carved along the trim. Dark-green ivy grew along the edges of the building, neatly tended and providing a nice color contrast.
Upon the dark-green double doors was carved what he took to be the crest of the Daerodils: a bow and harp separated by a tree beneath a banner of stars, the same tree that he recognized from Enelwyn’s holy symbol.
A pair of elven guards dressed in green livery with the royal crest on their surcoats swung the doors smoothly open before them with polite nods.
Taren followed Enelwyn into a large airy hallway that extended to the left and right. Sunlight streaming in the windows on either side provided ample light down the long corridor. Directly ahead was an open atrium around the heart of the tree, with multiple levels of balconies extending upward.
Enelwyn led him down the hallway to the left. The healer stopped a servant in the corridor and spoke in Elvish for a moment. The servant nodded and hurried off in the opposite direction.
They passed along the curving hallway past several closed rooms before coming to a prepared guest room. The chamber was simply furnished but cozy, with a low bed to either side and a dresser between them. A window covered by a sheer yellow cloth filtered the light of the atrium outside, casting a warm glow over the room. Taren held the curtain aside and looked out upon the atrium. The ground was flat and grassy, sectioned off by neatly trimmed hedges. Flowers and other more exotic plants were planted around the space in cascading rows. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought it was an ordinary garden rather than one built in a tree dozens of paces above the ground.
“Is everything to your liking, Taren?” Enelwyn asked, hovering at the threshold.
“Yes, very much so. This place is amazing.”
Enelwyn beamed, clearly pleased he liked the accommodations. “Your food shall arrive shortly. Is there anything else I can get you?”
“No, thank you. The hospitality is more than I’d have ever imagined.”
“You have Princess Zylka to thank for that.” She smiled then glanced to her right. “Ah, here’s your cousin.”
Two slender servants bore the litter into the room and placed it gently on the ground. They lifted Elyas with some difficulty onto one of the low beds. Kinnel and his partner had apparently had enough of lugging the big man around.
Taren thanked the servants, who bowed and departed with the litter in tow.
Enelwyn knelt by the bed and examined Elyas for a moment. Satisfied he was well, she stood and turned back to Taren. She pointed to a small bell beside the door. “If you need anything, please ring the bell, and a servant will arrive in a moment.”
“Thank you, Enelwyn, for aiding Elyas… and for everything.”
She nodded and smiled. “It’s been my pleasure, Taren. Rest now, and set your cares aside for a time.”
Taren sat down on the bed once she departed. He rubbed his face, wondering if he could get a bath somewhere, but the bed felt awfully comfortable. He was on the verge of lying down when a soft rap sounded at the door.
A servant brought in a basket of food and a jug of water. Taren thanked her and took a piece of bread and a slab of cheese from the basket. After finishing tho
se, which he found delicious, he ate some berries along with a green-and-red fruit he’d never seen before, which was slightly tart with a citrus flavor. He poured some water on a cloth napkin and scrubbed the sweat and dirt off his face. After taking off his boots, he lay down atop the covers. Within moments, he was asleep.
***
A soft knock sounded at the door. Taren blinked awake, not knowing where he was for a moment. The room was faintly lit through the translucent curtains. Elyas was resting comfortably across the room, his breathing slow and steady.
Ah, yes, Egrondel.
Taren straightened his rumpled tunic and opened the door to find a petite maid standing there. She wore a green tunic with the royal crest and black breeches. Her gray hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail, and large storm-gray eyes dominated her face. He couldn’t begin to guess her age—he got the impression of maturity and assumed she was middle-aged, partly due to her hair color, yet her face was as smooth and free of wrinkles as any of the other elves he’d met.
“Apologies if I interrupted your rest, sir, but the princess requests your presence for dinner in an hour.” She curtseyed as if he himself was royalty.
A mixture of emotions passed over him. He felt alternately pleased, nervous, and embarrassed. He’d slept away the majority of the day when he hadn’t intended to. “My thanks. Is there a spot where I might bathe? And get a change of clothes?”
The servant frowned slightly. “Are there not clothes provided?” Taren shrugged and stepped back so the elf could enter. She opened the dresser, revealing within a neatly folded dark-brown garment with orange trim, which she laid out on the bed.
“Oh, I didn’t think to look.” He felt a fool.
“You may bathe in the garden if you like.” She removed a towel from the bottom of the dresser then went and drew the curtain aside. She pressed on the windowed door, and it swung smoothly outward.
Scions of Nexus Page 24
