“Your, your majesty,” Irena said, bowing down in belated recognition of the circumstances. “You have been missing and presumed dead for several days. The city will rejoice at your return!”
“I’m not returning, yet,” Alec said calmly as he removed his arms from Hinges. “I came here to ask you to help me leave the city undetected, if possible. I need to get rid of these,” he indicated the rich robes, “and to wear some sensible clothes. And I’m afraid I need at least a little money, if you have any you can lend to me. Aristotle will see that you are repaid; I’ll give you a note to give to him.”
“The protector is asking to borrow from a housekeeper?” Hinges laughed at the ridicus notion. “We have a little silver you’re welcome to have. We don’t have any clothes for men though, I’m afraid.”
“Could you go down to the slop shops and get some for me?” Alec asked
“I could do it this morning once the shops open, if you don’t mind waiting that long,” Hinges replied. “Irena, you go along now so you’re not late for work. We’ll be fine here.”
“Good bye Irena,” Alec said holding out his hand.
The girl took it gingerly, then gave a slight curtsey. “I’ll see you later mama,” she said and left.
“May I rest here today and leave this evening?” Alec asked, feeling the full extent of his weariness from the use and adaptation of ingenaire energies.
“Yes by all means, lie down in the back room upstairs. Would you like anything to eat first?” his hostess asked.
Alec looked at her fondly. “I hate to pass on your good cooking, but sleep is all I want right now.” With that he gave her a kiss on the cheek and gratefully went to lie down.
When Alec awoke in the late afternoon he felt refreshed. He went downstairs to find Hinges calmly sewing in her parlor; she placed it aside to show Alec the clothes she had bought for him. “And here are the coins we have for you,” she said, handing him a small, worn leather purse.
Alec felt his heart swell with gratitude towards the kindly woman, and also felt shame that he was taking advantage of her good nature. He sat down to write a note to Aristotle, explaining the need to repay Hinges and urging the ingenaire to let him travel without pursuit or escort on the journey he was compelled to undertake.
Irena returned as the sun was setting. “You’ve had a long day,” Hinges said after greeting her.
“Yes, we had extra work at the manor. The new owners are holding a great festive evening tomorrow,” she replied with exasperation.
“Is the city calm?” Alec asked.
“Yes, the city is in good hands, and people are looking forward to the return of the rest of the ingenairii from Goldenfields. With the evil men all gone from Ingenairii Hill, and the palace back under control of a good man, the city feels like it’s moving back to the old days,” Irena answered.
“You say the ingenairii are returning from Goldenfields?” Alec asked, not sure how he felt about such a move.
“Master Aristotle sent a messenger to me last week asking me to come up to the Hill to clean up your Healer House,” Hinges explained. “When I went up there, folks told me that he had sent invitations to the ingenairii in Goldenfields inviting them all to come back to restore unity among the ingenairii. Everyone expects they will return, and they’re needed. There aren’t many left up there now; it’s so empty it makes me wat to cry.”
Alec wondered how many ingenairii would return. Most, he imagined, and he knew that it was the right thing for them to do, but he regretted that the potential union of warriors and ingenairii as a fighting force in Goldenfields would go unrealized. He wondered where Bethany would choose to go, and Cassie as well. Ari was cleaning the Healer House for her, presumably.
Pondering the matters he had heard, Alec bid his hostesses an affectionate goodbye, and stepped out into the dusky evening streetscape. He strolled through the city with a hood up to further conceal his identity, and crossed the river to the small tavern where he had stayed before unexpectedly winning the crown. There he used a substantial portion of the funds Hinges had given him to pay the stable fees for Walnut, and climbed into the saddle to begin his long journey.
Chapter 2 – Returning to the River
The beginning of the sojourn, or at least the prospect of beginning it, filled Alec with eager anticipation. He rode his horse at a suitable pace through the city, and long after the darkening sunset he reached the verge of the city where the buildings thinned out and he felt free in the open spaces around him.
The newly self-exiled ruler of the city rode along the main river thoroughfare until he reached a wooded glen far from the city, then pulled Walnut off the road and set up a camp to sleep through the remainder of the night. He was pleased he had accomplished his first priority – getting out of the city, where he feared he might be recognized. With Walnut tied to a bush, and his blanket roll wrapped around him, Alec lay and thought about the confusing facts of his world.
For him it was only a day since he had gone to confront the leaders of Ingenairii Hill, and virtually blown himself up in their presence as a way to destroy them. It was a tactic he knew had surprised everyone in his own party of followers, and probably left many of them believing he was dead. His note to Aristotle would put that belief to rest as well as restoring Hinges’ wealth to her, but would also raise many questions about his disappearance, and for that matter even his tactics and his temperamental fitness to be Protector of the Crown.
For Alec, though, the opinions of others didn’t matter any more. He had been told by the spirit of a holy saint, the disciple of the savior no less, that he had a mission to heal a fatally wounded girl. Now after being detoured and distracted and detained by adventures along the way, he was on the road to Stronghold where Noranda lay deathlike in a family crypt.
The warm summer air blew in a gentle breeze over Alec, and he heard it whisper in the husky leaves on the tree branc above him. The gentle sound lulled him to sleep, and he slept without dreams as his body recovered from the strains it had suffered in the past twenty-four hours.
Long after the sun rose Alec slept on, and when his thirsty horse nudged him awake he opened his eyes in a confused beginning to the day. Moments later he remembered where he was, as well as the mission he was on. He needed to head to Stronghold - immediately - as Noranda’s spirit had told him. His memory for a moment overtook his mind, and he remembered the kiss Noranda had given him before he had fallen asleep. The memory evinced another in turn, the memory of his last kiss with Bethany, when he’d parted from her in Bondell. He’d not told her he loved her, and his weakness in that moment still gnawed at his heart, more now than before.
How could he make it up to Bethany? How fast could he make it to Stronghold, he wondered? He’d only ever visited the city once before, when traveling with Richard’s slow moving carnival. Without money to purchase supplies for his mount and himself, or better yet, a ride on a riverboat, Alec suspected he would need to ride for three weeks to a month. And when that journey was complete and his healing for Noranda done, he would at last be free to find Bethany.
He rolled up his blankets and prepared to leave the woods. As he guided Walnut back out to the road, he counted the remaining coins Hinges had given him. They were enough to buy some food for a few days, but not enough for even half the journey he expected, and that assumed he slept in woods or barns for the length of the journey.
He felt his mount turning to look at the pasture beside the road, and he let Walnut have his way to grab a few mouthfuls of grass, reinforcing the issue on his mind. Alec hardly had money to feed himself, let alone to buy fodder for Walnut. Until he reached a large city with branches from the major banks, he’d have to make do.
He pulled on the bridle and set Walnut back in motion, heading upriver along the Carmen towards the junction with the River Giffey. A light rain began to mist down, and Alec pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head as he spurred Walnut into a brisk walk.
For the ne
xt few days Alec and his horse rode in the wet weather, slowed down by a road that turned to a sticky, muddy track on the south side of the river, a path less used than the busier road on the north shore. He traveled through several small villages and past numerous farms, though only when he passed Frame, sitting across from him on the north shore of the river, did he experience an urban setting. He stopped and bought some biscuits and traveler supplies, then continued ahead. He occasionally rode alongside a wagon going to or from town or among a group of travelers, and listened to their small talk. Twice he was with pilgrims heading to various shrines.
Alec occasionally practiced a little medicine for his companions, when simple cures were called for and easy ingredients were readily available. He asked for no money for such work, but received meals for himself and feed for Walnut, and stretched out his ability to support himself by several days.
When he neared the mouth of the Giffey, he cut through the land of Redwater, a land ruled by Baron Long, a nominal friend of Goldenfields, and arrived at the capital city with the self-same ninto the Giffey River. Alec walked his mount through the busy streets at mid-morning on a market day, when goods from the countryside were arrayed among the streams of buyers and sellers, giving the city a crowded feel after the many days Alec had spent riding the country highways. He had a destination in mind though that required going to the heart of the city, so he slowly edged along until he came to the riverfront, then asked for directions to find the dockyard of Natha Millershome.
By mid-afternoon Alec was at the gate to Natha’s docks. “Is Tarkas available today, or Joaquin, or Natha himself by any chance?” Alec asked the guard, who clearly did not intend to allow folks from the landside to enter the docks easily, especially one as unkempt as Alec appeared.
Alec’s knowledge of the family names did not lessen the guard’s suspicion, but it did earn a note being sent to the office. “Who shall I tell them is asking?” the guard said expressionlessly.
“Let them know that Alec, Annalea’s healer, is at the gate,” he replied, using an affiliation that any family member would grasp.
A short time later a reply came back. “The proctor will see you; there’s no family member at this station presently.” Alec knew that Natha’s family moved around among the various cities to keep an eye on their interests in each of them, and consequently there was unlikely to be a guarantee of finding one of Natha’s sons at a particular city on any given day.
The proctor met Alec in his office, and shut the door behind him, something unusual Alec suspected from the startled expressions he saw through the door frame as the door closed the rest of the staff off from the conversation.
“My name is Consum,” the proctor began. “I’ve worked for Natha at a number of places for over twenty years, so I felt I owed something to a friend of his family if that’s who you are,” he explained with a dubious tone of voice.
“I met Annalea last year when she was suffering, and nursed her back to health. I also helped Natha with the healing water he sells from the fountain upriver; you do still sell barrels of that water, don’t you?” Alec asked, hoping that he was mentioning pertinent points to prove his affiliation with Natha’s family.
“Ah,” Consum replied. “Well, that sounds correct. What else can you tell me?”
“Well,” Alec thought, “I’m actually in a partnership with Natha and the Duke in the sales of the water, and I worked with Tarkas to help save the Duke in Goldenfields last fall. I’ve been to Natha’s home in Goldenfields, out west of town, and I’ve met the proctors Gretchen in Bondell and Drawr in Oyster Bay…” Alec ran out of items he wanted to divulge. “There is more I could add, if you need.”
“Let’s suppose you’re telling me the truth; what news would Drawr have passed along recently through the network about you?” Consum queried.
Alec paused; it seemed like an invitation for him to admit that he was crown protector of the Dominion, which was the last thing he wanted to admit and spread around as he trie to speed ahead of his name and away from his duties in order to carry out his obligation to Noranda.
“I thought your dockyards in Oyster Bay were closed; they were when I was last there a few days ago, so I don’t know that Drawr would have anything to say,” Alec temporized.
“That’s correct,” Consum said, his facial expression indicating that Alec’s answer was what he had been fishing for. “Presuming you are who you say you are, tell me why you’ve stopped here asking for Natha or his family.”
“I need to travel up to Stronghold as quickly as possible. I hoped I might be able to travel on one of your ships going in that direction,” Alec replied.
“That’s very little…” Consum began.
“And I can even work as a guard; I’m good with a sword,” Alec added, suddenly inspired to offer to work for his passage.
“We haven’t actually sent a ship as far north as Stronghold in several months, but as it happens, we are going to send our first ship up there later this week to re-open the yards there. And an extra sword on duty certainly would be a good idea,” Consum stated.
“The ship from Goldenfields should arrive here in two days, and then debark the same evening. If you can be here ready to go, you’ll have a spot with the crew,” the proctor said.
“And will I be able to bring my horse?” Alec asked, deciding to push the limits of his request.
“How good of a swordsman are you?” Consum asked.
“Very good,” Alec answered confidently.
“If you’re good enough, perhaps,” replied Consum. “We’ll see. Be sure to be here early. Now, if you’ll excuse me please, I have work to attend to,” Consum dismissed Alec abruptly.
“Before I go, may I have some paper and a pen? I would like to write a couple of letters,” Alec pleaded for one more favor.
Consum gave him an exasperated look, then handed a sheaf of papers, a pen, and a small ink bottle to Alec, before turning away to avoid further interruption.
Alec let himself out of the office and back to the front gate where Walnut was tethered to a post outside. “Is there a good inn that’s affordable around here, with a stable?” he asked the guard.
“Try the Wharfside,” the guard replied matter-of-factly.
Alec gave thanks and went to the inn, where his small cache of coins led him to bargain for space in the loft above the stables. He took his time selecting the best stall for Walnut and brushed the horse thoroughly as the sunlight faded and the stable boy fed the other animals. He ate a roll from a street vendor and lay down in the hay above Walnut, a softer, better resting place than he’d slept in for sev, then hanights.
The next day, on his way to the farmers market to buy some inexpensive fruit, Alec passed a large impressive building, a branch in the Pierpont bank system. He opened the door and walked in, then asked about withdrawing funds from the account he’d not used in some time, and was told to return the following day when the manager of the bank would be present. He moved on to the market where he bartered for some apples, then returned to the stable and sat down with his new paper and pen.
Over the course of his trip to Redwater Alec had thought about the many people who might believe that he had run away from responsibility and duty. The Duke of Goldenfields, whose service he had abandoned; Faldor, the chamberlain in Bondell, who he had left behind to restore order in that principality; Rander, who he had left as steward of Oyster Bay, a place where no ruler was left; and Aristotle, most of all his mentor, Aristotle, who had to reorganize and restore the damaged community of ingenairii who remained after the fratricidal coup and purging of dissidents.
Alec also knew that he had to write to Bethany. He didn’t know what he would tell her, but he knew he owed her some explanation. Many months had passed since their last time together in Bondell, and extraordinary events had changed his life, his obligations and his priorities. He had thought of her ceaselessly now over the months of their separation, riding emotional ups and downs, but coming
without hesitation to the conviction that he loved her, and needed to tell her.
By the middle of the morning he had managed to write to Faldor and Duke Toulon, enough work, he felt, to justify taking a ride out into the country for a break. On the outskirts of Redwater he rested Walnut in a glen, and he picked some plants that might be useful as medicines while his mind pondered the other things he needed to tell people.
His letter to Rander was most difficult, because he wanted to write as though he deserved the right to give advice, giving direction for armies to move against the lacertii, for repair of the palace, relations with the church, cooperation with the ingenairii, and many things more. He had written to Duke Toulon with a promise of aid coming from Oyster Bay if possible, and he hoped that Rander was in a position to make that occur. Most of all he wrote his apology for abandoning Rander in the difficult position of trying to hold the crown and the government together. He encouraged Rander to rely on Aristotle for advice and assistance and promised to return when his obligation was met.
As he wrote to Aristotle, he reflected on and expressed his many doubts and questions. Aristotle was the person he trusted more than anyone else in the world, and as he wrote, he wished that he had the benefit of the great ingenaire’s judgment to guide him. He felt a sense of catharsis as he let the pen tell Ari about the many things that had happened, many good, some bad, most of them confusing. The paper was covered front and back as he let flow the long rambling tale of his adventures.
Finally, he sat and stared at the blank piece of paper that was meant to be a letter to Bethany. He suspected that his other letters would provide widespread confirmation that he lived, and he knew the water ingenaire would be wondering why he had sent no word to her over so many months of separation. He began awkwardly, unable to write of affection, and crumpled the paper in disstisfaction. “Bethany, Noranda’s spirit has come to me many times, and compelled me to travel to her tomb to rescue her. I was in the sacred spring of John Mark, seeking healing…” he wrote. His long, rambling epistle recited all that had happened since they parted, but as it reached the last page, he had not yet explicitly told her his feelings for her.
The Lifesaving Power: Goldenfields and Stronghold Page 2
