“It’s kind of you to offer but I’d rather train with Uncle Talon if it’s all the same.”
“Now, now, Ishtvan,” Talon told his nephew. “Your mother’s a very good sword fighter. You could learn a lot from her.”
Ishtvan smiled, a little sheepishly. “I know that, Uncle Talon. But you’re not as strict.”
The adults in the room chuckled.
“So that’s what you meant,” Lorial said. “Oh well. Up to you then.”
Lord Keld Vascakyle looked at his reflection in the polished metal on the desk in front of him. He was not the man he used to be, he knew. His sixty years had left their marks. The hardening of the lines on his face. The graying of his hair. However, he’d seen men who had looked much older at the same age, so he couldn’t complain. He smiled at his reflection and imagined that the man he saw was smiling back of his own accord.
As he adjusted his tunic, making sure the emblem of the great northern eagle wasn’t hidden in creases, he glanced at his wife. Lady Kaolin, the leader of the people of Arahir. Maybe it was because she was of noble lineage but she still looked as strong and as regal as she had always done. Also, even though she was only five years younger than he was, she was still beautiful. She showed the maturity that she had developed over the years of course. Her beauty wasn’t quite what it had been in her youth, but for Keld, it was as though the years had refined her. Her hair was still like auburn silk, she had retained the fullness of her lips, the softness of her features and her large eyes that were so expressive and deep were still as beautiful as he remembered them when she had been a very young woman.
King Aurth had suggested that they marry and that then Arahir would have a leader of noble lineage, since Keld hadn’t wanted to govern it himself. Keld remembered how reluctant he had been at the time. He’d thought he had nothing to offer a woman like Kaolin but she, and her father, had seen something in him that he hadn’t. And now, years into his marriage, he was glad they had.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Kaolin asked him, reaching her arms around him and smiling.
“I was just thinking about us,” Keld told her. “Well, thinking about you really.”
She kissed him and ran a hand through his hair. “That’s very sweet of you.” Then she stepped back and gave him an appraising glance. “Now, let’s see.” She didn’t ask him for his opinion on his attire, not because she didn’t consider it important but because she knew he didn’t have one.
“Just like a lord,” she said.
Keld smiled at their little private joke. He had never really taken to his new title but he didn’t mind Kaolin reminding him of it.
Once again, he found himself thinking about how much she meant to him, how much the last few years had meant. He had lost many companions in the fall of Orishelm. His brother had been killed by marauding Angdar while riding for aid and he knew his father had fallen in the battle. There were many years he could never share with them. And recently, both his mother and Kaolin’s parents had passed away too.
However, while life had been taking from him with one hand, it had been giving with the other. His country was reborn and with the chance to start again, it could be a more wonderful place than anyone had ever imagined. While the work was still ongoing even now, people were happy and it seemed that his dream for the future of the land was one that many around him shared. And he had a loving wife, and while she had experienced her own share of hardship when Valahir had been held under siege by the Angdar in her younger years, she carried strength and hope wherever she went. She was the ideal leader for the people, he knew, and they all loved her.
Finally, there was their son, Kelahil, named after the founder of the original Orishelm. That had been Kaolin’s idea and Keld thought it was rather fitting. At the ripe old age of ten, he wasn’t likely to become a great leader of men any time soon but it was nice to think that when the time came for him to claim his inheritance, the first lord of the new Arahir to be born after the reconstruction would share the name of the original founder.
Keld felt a tightening in his throat as the emotions flowed through him. He had a family, and after all the loss, all the years of loneliness, he was living out the autumn years of his life with companions by his side.
He finished getting ready, while Kaolin looked over some documents on her desk. “Keld, this site here...”
Keld came over and saw that she had unrolled a map. “Yes?”
“If we could start another township nearby,” she explained, pointing to an area near the point she had been looking at, “a town that could produce enough not only to be self–sufficient but to provide supplies for our soldiers... If we could do that, we could move that outpost farther east where it would do more good. What do you think?”
Keld shrugged. “You’d know better than I would. But it would depend on how fertile that land there was.”
“It’s been sometime since I last saw the area,” Kaolin admitted. “But it seemed fertile enough then.”
“Perhaps your brother may know,” Keld said.
Kaolin smiled, although there was a little sadness in her eyes. “I’m going to miss you.”
Keld gave her a tender kiss. “I’m going to miss you too. But don’t worry. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
“You’re not going to go riding in the wilderness with that brother of mine then?”
Keld grinned. “Unlikely. I’d be more likely to try my hand at reaching the peak of Ismene Langvari.”
This was the greatest of the peaks in the Eles’mae mountains that fanned out from the vale of Orishelm, dwindling in the forests to the east and rising to pierce the skies themselves in the west.
“Don’t even joke about that,” Kaolin said. “We’ve already lost a few silly young men this year. I have half a mind to forbid any more foolhardy attempts.” Then she sighed. “But I suppose you can’t stop idiots being idiots, can you?”
“No,” Keld agreed. “But you should be grateful that they’re few and far between.”
“True.”
“Anyway,” Keld told her, “I only meant that I can’t ride anywhere near well enough to keep up with your brother.”
“Not many can,” Kaolin said with a shake of her head. “He’s always been amazing with horses. Ever since he was a small child.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Keld replied. He walked over to the wall where their swords were hanging in their scabbards. He always felt a little strange taking his down. After the liberation of Valahir and the defeat of Marshal Artaeis’ forces in the east, he had hoped he would never have to use it again. However, there were still stray Angdar and bandits and the need for at least a little vigilance was an ongoing necessity.
Sometimes, he thought that of the two threats, the bandits were the worse. Nobody liked the Angdar, but they were simply doing what they had always done. They’d been trained to kill, raised that way from their cradles. The creatures didn’t know any other way of living. If anything, Keld pitied them. However, the bandits were something else entirely. When people all over the Greater Realms were working together to make a better future for everyone who dwelled there, it disgusted him that there were some who would take advantage of the situation to raid recovering communities, to rob and murder for their own selfish ends.
He lifted his sword from its place on the wall and slid it into the scabbard onto his belt. Then he stepped back and adjusted his attire one last time. “Well. I suppose I’d better go and assemble my traveling companions.”
“All right,” Kaolin replied, taking his hand in her own. “But come and say goodbye to Kelahil first.”
II. Premonition
Shaala sat on a rock ledge near the mountain abode she shared with Karn. It was a lovely place, nestled in one of the raised valleys of the Entruscian range. Mighty peaks shielded it to the east and the west but they weren’t so close that they blocked the light or the warmth of the sun throughout the day. In the early morning and the late afternoon, th
e abode lay in shadows but for most of the day, it was bright and cheerful.
Right then, she was looking at a little sparrow dancing about on the ledge in front of her. Concentrating, she tried to see the world from its eyes. It felt strange at first to be seeing its perspective laid over what she saw through her own eyes. Morgiana had warned her that this was a disconcerting experience. Then, through the sparrow’s view, Shaala saw Karn coming down the slope from the stone buildings that were their homes. It was interesting but very disorienting. She then tried one last trick that Morgiana had shown her and persuaded the sparrow to remember things it had recently seen.
It was fun watching the grassy slopes fall away through the sparrow’s eyes as the little bird flitted here and there. Then her brief contact with the sparrow was violently ended.
Concentrating, she tried to focus on whatever it was that had caused the sudden shock but there was nothing distinct or tangible she could grab hold of. She felt only fear and a sensation of claustrophobia, as though something were closing in around her.
Then, gradually, she became aware of the mountain sloping away below her and the pleasant morning sun on her skin. She massaged her temples, pushed herself up from the grass and stretched some life back into her limbs. She blinked a couple of times and was not surprised to see that the sparrow had flown away. Then she remembered that Karn had been coming down to see her. She turned around and saw that he was still approaching but by the look in his eyes, he was somewhat dazed as well.
“You felt it too?” she asked when he came closer.
Karn nodded.
Later in the morning, Shaala called out to Morgiana, drawing on the gift to speak to her over the vast distance that separated them, and she told her what happened.
Keld smiled as he dismounted in the main square of Arvenreign.
“Keld,” a younger man greeted him, striding down the steps from the hall in front of them with his arms spread out in warm welcome.
Keld embraced him. “King Kaodas.”
“Welcome to Arvenreign,” the king said, turning his gaze to his entourage. “All of you.”
“I needn’t tell you that your sister sends her greetings,” Keld told him as Valahir men came to stable their horses.
Kaodas smiled. “Is she well? How’s Kelahil?”
“They’re both well.”
“That’s good,” Kaodas said, patting Keld on the back. He eyed the dark clouds that were gathering overhead, blowing in from over the mountains. “I’d say you and your friends arrived just in time. Come on inside.”
They crossed the cobblestones, glancing at the mountaintops to the east and the west over the roofs of the buildings. They were not as imposing as the mountains that surrounded Orishelm but they weren’t small by any stretch of the imagination. Shortly after the group went inside King Kaodas’ hall, rain pummeled the ground.
They were still in the hall when night fell. Most of Lord Keld’s men were gathered around a roaring heath at one end and feasting while he and Talon Illochir sat at the other with King Kaodas at a small table. There were a few mugs of ale in front of them and outside, the rain still drummed on the cobblestones and the rooftops.
“So the Angdar were on that highway to the old garrison then?” Kaodas asked.
“Yes,” Keld told him, taking another sip of his drink. “I wasn’t there but Talon and his brother were.”
“What were they doing, do you think?” the king of Valahir asked the other man, a man more his equal in years and in his prowess with the blade.
Talon took a swig of his own mug before he answered. “Well, we didn’t stop to ask them but they didn’t strike me as a raiding party. I rather got the impression that they were scouting the area.”
Kaodas frowned. “There must be a larger group of them somewhere nearby. Or several such groups. But you know, I keep sending patrols out and they find nothing. And I’ve ridden all the way to the Anebera River in Ungvemhaast. And I’ve ridden up and down the Raeuben River for good measure as well. Nearly followed it all the way down to Olcenberg.” He shook his head. “Nothing.”
Keld gave him a reassuring smile. “They can’t hide in the wilderness forever. If your people keep looking and our people keep looking, we’ll find them.”
King Kaodas nodded. “And they’ll die off eventually, I suppose.”
III. Wyvern’s Peak
After a few days of pleasant weather, an evening storm was rolling in again. Lord Keld and his entourage hoped their travel cloaks would keep most of the rain off.
That morning they had crossed the east branch of the Avahast River. One of the defences of Valahir was that north of the fork in the river, there were very few places where an enemy could cross either branch. And where it was possible, these places were always watched. Close to the fork however, there were three bridges. One across the east branch, one across the west and one south of the divide, allowing travelers to easily reach whichever side of the river they wanted to travel along when heading north and south. Between Valahir and Arahir however, Lord Keld always chose the eastern side. That way, if there were any Angdar or bandits, he’d be on the right side to deal with them.
He wasn’t expecting trouble of course and so far, the ride south had been uneventful. They had seen a few trading ships sailing down to Orishelm and Ensildahir. They had seen trading ships heading the other way too, hauled up by teams of horses along the banks – the Avahast flowed too swiftly for anyone to sail up it – and all about them, they had seen the villages that dotted Valahir’s countryside. Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. Until now.
Talon noticed it first. “Keld!” he called out. “There’s smoke to the south–east.”
“Come on,” Keld told the group.
The smoke was some way off in the distance and it was another hour before they reached its source. By that time, the fires that had churned it out had died down but there were still smoldering embers about the place. However, with the rain that was well and truly on its way, they wouldn’t be smoldering for long.
Keld and his companions surveyed the scene. There were a few scattered buildings about the place and two of them had been burned to the ground. There were several dead farmers as well and some who were wounded. A woman clutching the hems of her skirt came running over to them.
“You are men of Arahir?” she asked, recognizing the emblem of the great northern eagle on Keld’s tunic.
“We are,” Keld answered her. “I’m Lord Keld and these are my companions. What happened here?”
“We were attacked by Angdar,” the woman told him. “Some of our men tried to fight them and the Angdar killed them. Then they raided our stores. They took everything!”
“Where did they go?”
“That way,” the woman said, pointing east. “They left about two hours ago.”
Keld nodded. “Were there many?”
“I don’t know,” the woman said. “Fifty or more.” She shook her head. “Marauding killers, the lot of them.”
“We’ll find them,” Keld assured her. “And we’ll send for aid to help you here.” He turned to one of his men. “Ariath, ride north and alert the king. We’ll meet you back in Orishelm. Also tell him we’re heading east to pursue these creatures.”
“I will,” Ariath replied with a slight bow of his head, before leaving on his errand.
Keld turned back to the woman. “My lady, some among us have some skill in healing. Are any of you in need of urgent assistance?”
The woman shook her head. “No, my lord. We have some wounded, but they’re not grievously hurt.”
Looking around, Keld wondered whether the woman and the other villagers felt uncomfortable accepting their help and whether they might have been downplaying how serious the attack had been. “I’ll leave one of my men here just in case. Elha?”
“My lord,” one of his companions replied. He dismounted and began administering to the wounded villagers.
“More help will come soon,” Kel
d promised the woman.
Cirreone had been many things over the years. In ancient times, it had been a great trading port, the center of a powerful sea–faring nation. Later, it had fallen under the sway of Strahd the Invoker and then Marshal Artaeis and it had been used as a fortress from which the marshal had orchestrated his war against the neighboring lands. Then, after his defeat, Cirreone had taken on a new identity, that of the great trading port it had been before.
Under the new marshal of Aracea, Lord Falk, and with the assistance of an army of artisans, farmers and other pioneers brought into the city by Tal Orson, the city had been largely restored to its former glory.
The people Tal had brought with him when the restoration work had begun had brought others, family and friends. Some of the traders passing through had settled in the city as well and the fields around its walls were once again green and fertile. And, Tal had come to realize over the past few years, he was not a part of it any more.
He kept watch over the lands of the east but for the day to day activities of the reborn city, he wasn’t needed. He had done what he had set out to do and then he had stepped back.
Morgiana and he had both stepped back. It was what they had agreed was right. Sól had told them to finish it before she had died and so they would. And now that Queen Heptapshu had trained Lord Falk to be as good a falconer as herself and they had both taught more falconers to improve communications throughout the Greater Realms, Tal believed the time was coming soon.
“It’s good to see you,” he told Morgiana as she entered his quarters. They had been through so much together, he and Morgiana. She was the closest thing to a lover in his life as well but despite the years of peace after the war, it seemed that union was not to be. Maybe he and Morgiana were too old for such passion. Maybe it was because in order to keep watch over as much of the Greater Realms as possible, they had to remain apart, he in Cirreone and she in Kalishar.
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