It was amazing what a steaming hot shower, a warm mug of tea, and the company of an old friend could do.
Yet, there was something about Valena, more than just the fact that she was an old friend. She had some amazing, relaxing quality to her, and Yvonne couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Perhaps it was the way that she never seemed to be in a hurry, as if she had all the time in the world. Being a princess must be like that, Yvonne reasoned. How much extra time would she have if she never had to cook or clean?
The two had been sitting on the balcony of the room in the inn for some time now, catching up with life. So far, they had remained in the past, neither mentioning the ominous possibilities the future might bring. Tarthur and Derlin were doing the same, albeit inside of the room. Alahim and Lily were inside with them, doing a little awkward catching up of their own. Although the two had known each other nearly since Alahim was born, they had been too young to really know who the other person was. They had not seen each other in the last year, and that was the time when Alahim had really begun to open up.
Garseon and Addyean were out procuring supplies for the trip. Yvonne and Valena had volunteered to go, but Tarthur was taking his promise never to leave her alone again very seriously. He would hear nothing of her going out. Yvonne couldn’t really blame him. Things would have turned out so differently if Tarthur had been home when the elf had struck.
Still, she had to set some boundaries, or the trip was going to be even more miserable. There was no doubt that worry over Alahim would make the trip difficult at best, but having Tarthur watch her like a hawk would just exacerbate the situation. So, against his protestations, she had come to sit on the balcony. If she didn’t start exercising some small degree of freedom right away, she would have less and less of it. Their balcony was on the top floor of the hotel, and it was unlikely that someone would be able to even recognize her, let alone shoot her at that height. If Tarthur saw in little ways that his extreme worry was overdone, then he might relax as well. They both already had enough to worry about.
“You never cease to amaze me,” Valena said, taking a soft sip of her tea. She had brought her own special blend from Breshen. Yvonne could say the same thing about the elf princess. Valena was always good at the gentle, symbolic side of things. Whether it was herbs in tea, colors in a painting, or trinkets in a necklace, Valena always knew exactly which things to mix together so that the whole was more than the sum of its parts. Another with half as much skill could easily make something almost as good, yet could never quite capture the abstract beauty of the final creation. Yvonne supposed that was why Valena’s jewelry was worth so much.
Yvonne waved away the compliment. “It was just a mother’s instinct. You would have done the same if it were your family being attacked.”
“I have no doubt that I would have tried the same things as you,” she said, suppressing a shudder of fear as she looked inside the room to see Lily safe and sound. “Doing is another matter entirely. I know I’d give my life for her, but I just hope that it would be enough. You managed not only to fight the attacker off, but you traveled across the world, fought off skull knights, somehow survived a trip underground with dwarves, and then saved your husband’s life. No matter how much I wanted to do something like that, I don’t think I could. I never even learned how to use a sword properly.”
Something about Valena’s praise bothered Yvonne. Part of it was the fact that it was coming from the princess of the elves, although she was a friend. Another part of it was due to the fact that by the way Valena mentioned dwarves and skull knights, Yvonne was absolutely sure that she had never met either. Yvonne thought about trying to straighten her out, but it was no use. She had promised Fientien not to reveal the secrets of the dwarves, and she was sure that no amount of explaining could possibly make Valena understand what a skull knight was like. The third thing that bothered her was the way Valena said ‘properly.’ The elven princess had become more and more immersed in elven culture in the last few years. It was almost as if she were trying to make up for Derlin’s lack of ‘elvenness.’
Yvonne wanted to explain to her how with so many things in life, being ‘proper’ or not didn’t matter nearly so much as getting the job done. When had Yvonne learned anything properly? Despite what the headmasters of the finest academies might claim, the streets were about as good a classroom as any.
Instead of releasing her torrent of feelings, Yvonne simply smiled. “You will be surprised at what you can do when the time comes, Valena. But until then, perhaps you should learn to use a sword. I can’t believe you’ve never learned to defend yourself!”
“Well, I can use a dagger to disarm and strike,” she said. “But fighting was never interesting to me…I just see so much sorrow there.”
Yvonne nodded. Valena had lost her father and fiancé Hano to violence when in her teens, and it had scarred her. Now Valena wished never to take up a sword. Yvonne could understand, but she was more of a realist. It didn’t matter whether one embraced bloodshed or not, as long as one’s enemies did.
“I have something for you. When I first made it, I was thinking of you, but I wasn’t sure if it was perfect or not. Now, I know that this was truly made to be yours.” Valena reached into her pocket and drew out a black velvet box. Yvonne gasped. She knew what was coming.
Valena’s skill as a jewelry maker was legendary. Nobles came from across the country to commission pieces to be custom-made for their wives and children. Valena would spend time with someone before making a piece for him or her. She would try to pick up on the subtle edges of their personality that made that person unique. Afterwards, she would work for weeks or months before she delivered the item. Yvonne wasn’t sure what the prices were, but she knew that it was probably a case where if one had to ask, one couldn’t afford it. Although she and Tarthur were quite wealthy by ordinary standards, they were also frugal about their own needs and gave a great deal of their money away to those who were less fortunate. Valena had given Alahim a shapeshifter’s ring after he was born. The ring was a plain liquid-silver creation that flowed in a circular motion around Alahim’s finger. The elven wizard Cirocoti had infused it with magic, so that the ring could change shapes according to Alahim’s will. It remained a ring, but he could mount another shape on top of the ring. So far, he was able to call forth a few animals and some other household trinkets. Yvonne was just dreading the day he grew up enough to start using the ring to make obscene and inappropriate gestures with his friends.
Yvonne peered inside the box. Whereas most of Valena’s jewelry was silver, this piece was colorful. It was a pendant attached to a gold chain. The gold in the oval-shaped pendant sparkled, and it was offset with soft blues and deep reds. Yvonne couldn’t make out the shape at first.
“It’s a dragon egg,” Valena said with only the faintest hint of pride in her work. “Small and ordinary on the outside, but a dormant power lies within. Just like you.” Valena finished with a clever smile as she removed the necklace from the box and gave it to Yvonne.
Yvonne couldn’t wear it right away—she had to hold it in her hand for a few minutes first, letting the essence of the object reveal itself. She longingly played with it in her fingers, soaking up the feel of every crack and bump in the surface. “What is it made of?”
“The backbone is gold,” Valena replied. “The red color is made by the inlaid rubies.” She paused. “And, the blue comes from real dragon eggs. They are quite hard to find, but I accepted them as payment for a previous piece.”
Yvonne couldn’t believe her ears. Real dragon eggs? The beasts were certainly not known for their fertility. Dragons were solitary creatures, mating out of necessity rather than enjoyment.
“It’s so beautiful....” Yvonne trailed off. It was in fact what she had thought since the very beginning, but she did not feel that it was right to praise something without first understanding it more deeply. Valena was used to people praising her creations at first sight or before—Yvonne
wanted her praise to mean that much more.
“It’s a gift,” Valena simply said, stopping Yvonne before she could even think of paying. “Originally, I wanted something that would match mine, but we are very different, you know.” Valena’s pendant was a silver crescent moon suspended from a silver chain. Although the piece looked plain, Yvonne knew its true worth. The line formed the most perfect circle Valena had ever crafted. It was as hard for the non-artist to imagine the difficulty in drawing a perfect circle as it was for the non-swordsman to imagine the difficulty of making a perfectly straight cut.
“We’re not so different after all,” Yvonne said, bringing the elf into a tight embrace. Their pendants found each other and gave off a soft clink as they touched. “Troubled days are ahead, my friend. Soon we’ll see your inner strength as well.”
Chapter 7: Attacker Revealed
They left early the next morning. Zelin didn’t see any reason to delay, and with the amount of money they were carrying, they were able to procure all the necessary supplies in almost no time at all.
Zelin had arranged for two covered wagons, one of which was mainly carrying extra food, clothes, climbing equipment, and other supplies. They could have easily gotten by with only one, but in case anyone was following them, the attacker would not know which wagon Alahim was in. For a small hindrance, they had effectively doubled Alahim’s chance of surviving a surprise attack.
Tarthur wasn’t impressed. As far as he was concerned, one hundred wagons weren’t enough to keep Alahim safe. He would much rather rely on his magic. Well, his magic and Derlin’s sword. It had been years since they had last fought together, but already things felt right. It was as if he was putting his hand into his favorite glove that he had not worn since the last winter. Everything fit. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Derlin had the invincible Light Sword, a weapon that turned to light and cut through the opaque steel of the thickest armor, only to turn solid again on the other side and slice through any opponent as if they were made of no more than smoke. They had Zelin’s magic as well, and Garseon, Dalin, and the dwarf to help fight, for whatever that was worth. Tarthur, Derlin and Garseon mounted up and rode as escorts to the convoy, searching out any danger. Fientien was supposed to take up this position as well, but was reluctant to do so. The rest were puzzled, but soon the dwarf revealed that he didn’t know how to ride. He seemed deeply embarrassed by this fact, so Tarthur let it slide. Fientien contented himself with driving one of the wagons, while Zelin took the reins of the other team.
Even Tarthur could see the good sense of having the wagons along when it rained, and that day it poured. The day was bleak and gray. The water came down in sheets starting around midday, and didn’t let up until well into the afternoon. Although he was soaked through to the bone, Tarthur was at least glad that the women and children—not to mention the rest of his clothes—were dry and secure.
Fortunately, the road to Walis was new and well constructed. The earth was packed hard, so mud was not much of a problem for the wagons. Although the village of Laia was closer to the Vale, the apparitions of Tivu had all occurred in Walis, so that was where they headed first.
They passed few travelers on the road that day, but those that were out were faceless wraiths, keeping their bodies inside large outer cloaks. Tarthur was perpetually sure that each one of them was going to draw forth a sword and come rushing after one of the wagons. But by the end of the day, his paranoia had waned, and he began to relax slightly.
That night they stopped by the side of the road to light a fire and dry their garments. Of course, this only changed them from being wet and foul smelling to being dry and smoky smelling, but Tarthur supposed that it was an improvement. They had no worries with lighting a fire. Several groups were encamped by the side of the road at hundred meter intervals and they would not stand out. Dinner was a scrumptious course of grilled salmon, crab legs, and bread and butter. They had brought a limited supply of fresh fish from Deguz, and as it was only good for a few days, the companions had decided to eat it at the beginning of their journey.
The night was divided into three watches, with Tarthur, Derlin, and Garseon each taking a turn. Ever since the pact, they had trusted Fientien more and more, but it was one thing to trust someone not to betray you and another to trust him to stay alert and awake late into the night. For some reason, Tarthur didn’t have the same reservations about Garseon. Perhaps it was the trust Yvonne placed in him. Regardless, all three watches passed without incident, and soon the party was up and ready to go again.
They hitched up the horses, ate a quick breakfast of bread and cheese, and were on their way.
***********************
That day Alahim traveled with Lily and Zelin in their wagon. Zelin was driving and concentrating on the road, but he always seemed to chime in just at the right time to astonish the boy. Alahim was amazed that he could hear over the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves and the slow creak of the wagon axle as it turned beneath them. Their back axle was sorely in need of a glob of grease.
The day was fresh and cool as Alahim peered out of a small flap he had torn in the side. The back covering had been lashed shut to prevent anyone looking in, but Alahim felt safe looking out of his triangular tear. Besides, he had to look out somewhere or he would go crazy. Lily’s company helped the days ease by.
“I hope we get where we’re going quickly enough,” he said. At the same time, Alahim wasn’t so sure that he would be all that bothered if the road decided never to end. “I can’t stand being cooped up in here. Is this what your life is like being a princess?”
“Oh no,” she laughed. “My father is a bit overprotective at times, but he lets me run and play with the other kids. Although, I’m not a princess. At least, I don’t think I am.” She finished with a puzzled look on her face.
“What are you then?” Alahim asked his question a second too late. It was clear that she was already pondering the same thing.
“Well, my mother technically is the princess, so I guess I’m like the grandprincess or something. No, that doesn’t sound right. My uncle is the king, so maybe the nieceprincess then? Oh dear, I don’t even think that’s a word!”
Alahim laughed in spite of himself. “Well, what would have to happen before you take over as the leader of Breshen?”
‘Me? Probably the death of ninety five percent of its inhabitants.” She started to chuckle and then realized that it wasn’t funny. “When my father married my mother he had to renounce his claim on the elven throne. Our society doesn’t permit women to be rulers, so that leaves my mom out as well.”
“That’s not very sensible,” Alahim replied. “I think your mom would make a great queen. But what would happen if King Dalin dies?”
“Thanks! But I think your mom would do a better job. Being a leader really takes a lot of courage, and the conviction to follow through on what you know is right even in the face of criticism. Uncle Dalin doesn’t like to admit it, but the job wears on him. If he were to die…I don’t like to think about it. He has a long time yet to live…but if he were to die, he has some cousins who would take over.”
“What’s it like there?” Alahim looked directly at her, taking in her appearance. Her shoulder-length dark brown hair was done up into a bun with a single black stake thrust through it. The beads rattled against each other when she moved. Her hazel eyes were set off from her light golden skin. Her elven features were noticeable but not distinct. Her nose slanted down and her brows slanted up, but the angle was not as sharp as that on other elves. Her ears were barely pointed. Alahim knew something of what life was like in Breshen, having visited it half a dozen times before, but he had been younger and was now foggy on the details.
“I can’t imagine living anywhere else. The trees are so majestic—I could sit and stare at them for hours. The animals are quite friendly. They’ll talk your ear off if you let them.”
Alahim wasn’t convinced that was a place he wanted to live. “So that’s what
you do all day, look at trees and listen to animals? I think that might get boring after a while.”
“Not all day,” she chuckled, giving him a playful slap on the shoulder. “But it’s nice when you need to get away sometimes. I love my parents, but they don’t always understand me….”
“I know what that is like,” he agreed. “So what do you do all day?”
“We break our fast as a family with some simple fruits and grains in the morning. My day is divided up into three parts. Until noon, I go to school—well, it’s not a proper school like yours. It’s just a few girls meeting at our tutor’s house. He teaches us everything we need to know to be good elves; history, forest lore, reading and writing, how to prepare traditional dishes, and the meaning behind our customs. After lunch, we have two hours free but we’re supposed to learn something during that time. I’ve chosen to learn magic.” She said it almost reverently, as if she expected Alahim to be impressed. He wasn’t. Alahim had seen all sorts of magic growing up with a powerful wizard as a father and another in the village. He supposed it must be different for her, though. Neither of her parents could cast a single spell. Now he understood why she studied it. It was so hard growing up with famous parents. Children had to seek out new skills that their parents did not possess in order to differentiate themselves. Alahim tried to look like she had just told him she was studying to be a griffin trainer.
She continued. “At the end of the day we have time free to play in the forests. We hide and try to find each other, try to climb as high as we can, see who can run the fastest. I like this time the best because it’s the most relaxed.”
“Will you show me some magic?” Alahim suddenly asked. He knew she was proud of her skills, and wanted to keep her talking about them. Something about being with Lily felt so right. Maybe it was because he had finally met someone who dealt with the same pressures that he had. Maybe it was the way her eyes sparkled or the way her nose curled up to reveal a tiny point. Although he had met her before, he felt like he was just getting to know her for the first time.
Lands of Daranor: Book 02 - ProphecyQuest Page 13
