“One of my status?” asked Hal. It was hard for him to keep his disbelief and annoyance out of his voice. Back in the Collected Provinces, he’d been the son of a Voiceman, and an influential one at that. Everyone had expected that he would eventually follow in his father’s footsteps and enter the political realm, inheriting his family’s influence along with its wealth.
“I didn’t mean it as an insult,” said Laurel. “But you must know what I mean. You don’t have any money, Hal. You don’t own land. You’re not of noble blood. And… you kind of have a weird accent.”
Hal felt his jaw drop open.
“I… have a weird accent?” he asked, dumbfounded.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” said Laurel. “Please, don’t get sulky. I could have made something up about you being a visiting lord, or something, I guess, but it would have been harder for us to explain.”
Laurel was already heading back into the house. Hal felt strange following after her, almost as though some of the servant instincts he’d taken on briefly were still stuck with him. She took the baby dragon out of her room, cradling it in her arms and frowning.
“He looks hungry,” said Laurel.
“Quit trying to change the subject,” said Hal. “I might not have much to my name, but I am in no way your servant, Laurel.”
“I know that, and you know that, and I’m sorry, but it wouldn’t serve as an explanation to anyone who had questions about… us,” she said, sounding a little uncomfortable. “And I’m not changing the subject. Little Karnas really does look like he’s starving. I’m surprised he managed to stay as quiet as he did.”
Hal let it drop, not wanting to argue with her when it was clear that there was no point. Still, the experience had left a mark on him, cutting at a piece of his identity that he hadn’t realized he carried with him. He’d left his place in the world behind when Aangavar had carried him off to Krestia’s Cradle. And now it was up to him to find a new path, a new role, not as Laurel’s servant, but as his own man.
“I wonder if he likes dried beef?” mused Laurel. “Pull a strip out of the pantry, Hal. A piece small enough for him to bite into.”
Hal crossed his arms and looked at her, unamused. It took Laurel a second to realize that he wasn’t going to do it.
“I wasn’t ordering you as a servant,” she said. “My hands are full.”
“I’ll do it if you can phrase it as question,” he replied.
Laurel sighed and rolled her eyes.
“Halrin Kentar, my honored guest,” she said. “No, wait. Lord Halrin Kentar, if it please you my lord, would you kindly assist me in feeding this newborn dragon?”
“You’re ridiculous,” said Hal, unable to keep a small smile from spreading across his face.
As it turned out, Karnas did enjoy the dried beef. Hal was mystified by how much of it the tiny dragon managed to eat, and also by how often he seemed to nip at his fingers during the feeding. Karnas refused to eat more than a bite or two from a bowl or off a plate before breaking into tiny mewls, so it was all they could do to feed him by hand.
“So what happens now?” asked Hal. “You got your invitation to return to Meldence.”
“Well…” said Laurel. “I was hoping you’d be up to escorting me to the city. It’s not a trip a young lady can make on her own.”
“To the capital of Krestia’s Cradle?” said Hal. “I wouldn’t mind seeing it, to be honest. You’ve certainly talked it up enough. I’d like to see for myself what you’ve told me about its beautiful, paved streets and thousands of merchants selling an endless variety of goods.”
Laurel smiled, but Hal held up a finger, not yet finished.
“And I’m assuming you intend to keep this charade going?” asked Hal. “With me acting as your servant?”
“Hal…” Laurel sighed. “What other choice would I have? You wouldn’t be able to stay close to me otherwise. Even if I just told people that you were my close friend, the rumors would start to spread. And that’s the last thing I need right now…”
Her hand went to the scar on her cheek reflexively. Hal frowned, realizing that she had her own struggle awaiting her in the city.
It isn’t all about me. Maybe I’m not being fair to her. She opened her home for me, and helped me get back on my feet…
“Fine,” said Hal. “But can you at least call me your bodyguard, instead?”
“I can do that,” said Laurel. “You might still have to take on servant duties from time to time, though.”
Hal sighed, but didn’t push the point any further. He had no money of his own, and certainly wasn’t interested in leaving Laurel to attempt a long journey without protection. And moreover, he liked living in Fool’s Valley, his training with Cadrian, and the simple chores it took to keep the homestead running. Maybe he could find a path forward that included all of that, at least for a short time longer.
Karnas had finished eating and was eagerly accepting pats to the head and neck from Laurel. He opened his mouth and did his best imitation of a dragon’s roar, sounding more like an infant’s yawn than anything threatening. He stretched his wings to either side and gave a weak, playful flap.
“There’s also the matter of him,” said Hal. “We won’t be able to take him with us.”
Laurel sighed.
“No, I suppose we won’t,” she said. “But Vrodas can be trusted. And he already knew about the dragon egg, so we won’t be springing too much on him out of nowhere.”
“Of course not,” said Hal. “Hey, Vrodas, do you mind tending to our dragon while we’re gone? He eats meat, but he can’t breathe fire… yet.”
Laurel chuckled, and Karnas moved in closer to her, pressing one of his claws against her chest in a bid to convince her to pick him up, which she did. Hal headed outside and began some of the day’s early chores, giving food and water to Toothy, and making sure the gardens were clear.
CHAPTER 7
Vrodas arrived at the homestead earlier than either of them expected, riding a large black mare that he’d bought using money he’d as a traveling performer. The horse dragged a small wagon behind it, which he would fill with apples, assorted greens, root vegetables, and whatever else Laurel had to sell.
Hal waved to him as he made his way up the last stretch of hill. Vrodas cut a dashing figure atop his mount. He wore his black hair in a simple topknot, which made his long face seem that much longer. Ridges bulged out slightly over his eyes in place of brows, and he was dressed in a specially tailored, ogre style tunic with sleeves for all four of his arms.
He also wore a large, two handed sword across his back. The weapon reminded Hal his time with Vrodas, and Zoria as they each sought revenge against the dragon after the attack on Lorne. They chased it up the mountain and through husk filled caves, finally achieving their goal. They’d made a good team.
“Vrodas,” called Hal. “Impeccable timing, as usual.”
“Halrin,” said Vrodas. “Such a charmer. What is it? I know it must be something big, for you to greet me with such warmth.”
Hal grinned at him and explained what they needed. They only planned on being gone for a month, possibly less, depending on if the Harvest Tournament ended early. Vrodas listened patiently, revealing little with his expression.
“The dragon hatched, you say?” asked Vrodas.
Hal was about to answer him when Laurel carried Karnas out of the homestead and set him down on the grass. The baby dragon made a mewling noise of excitement and began bounding through the grass, his movements still as clunky and wobbly as any toddler.
Vrodas got off his horse, staring at it in complete bewilderment. Hal clapped him on the shoulders.
“We can talk more about little Karnas in a second,” said Hal. “There’s something else I need to ask you about.”
He frowned, wondering what the most tactful way to ask his question would be. Vrodas, like many of the residents of Lorne, the town of exiles, spoke very little about his past. Hal’s eyes wen
t down to the ogre’s missing hand, which he often wore a glove over to hide.
“We had a few visitors last night,” said Hal. “One of them was one of your people, a maug woman. When I mentioned her to you… she made this hand sign.”
Hal repeated the hand dance he’d seen, plunging low for each repetition of deep and holding his hands up in the passive, defeated posture of shame. Vrodas’s expression filled with pain, though he composed himself quickly.
“Oh,” he said. “I see they still remember me fondly.”
“Vrodas,” said Hal. “Is this something I should know about?”
Vrodas shrugged, all four of his shoulders lifting up and a little inward.
“No more than I should know of your life before you came to this land,” said Vrodas. “I was a member of a tribe once, Halrin. Jarst, the only maug tribe in this realm.”
The wind blew through the valley in a swirling, playful gust, making Vrodas’s topknot spin in a quick circle. He looked out toward the desert, avoiding Hal’s eyes.
“I made a mistake,” said Vrodas. “No… actually, not a mistake. I made a choice, Halrin. And I was punished for it.”
He held his stump up and grimaced.
“Will you tell me what your mistake was?” asked Hal.
Is it my place to ask this question of him? No, I don’t think it is, but curiosity sometimes trumps etiquette.
“There is the way things are and the way things should be,” said Vrodas. “Some of the maug, some people in general, react… very poorly, when the difference between the two is pointed out to them.”
The ogre smiled broadly and thumped Hal on the back with two hands at a time, almost bowling him over.
“Now come,” said Vrodas. “Explain to me in depth what’s required for me to care for the homestead in your absence.”
Far sooner than Hal had expected, he and Laurel were packed and ready to hit the road. Vrodas lent them his mare, so they traveled with two horses and a wagon, which was full of food, water, camping supplies, and Laurel’s formal wardrobe.
“Thank you again, Vrodas,” she said. “It may be in the near future that I’ll be in a position to repay you with even more than what you’re due.”
“What are any of us due, Lady Laurel?” said Vrodas. “Enjoy yourself. I’ve been to Meldence before. It’s a city where just about anything can happen.”
He winked at her, and Laurel’s face went bright red. Hal felt like he’d missed something, but he said his own goodbye to both Vrodas and the baby dragon. Karnas retaliated by nipping his finger when Hal tried to give him a parting pet, but it seemed more gentle than usual.
“Alright,” said Laurel. “Well. I suppose we should get moving. It feels strange heading north instead of south. I’ve never actually been through the mountain pass in all my time living here.”
“You haven’t?” asked Hal.
“No,” said Laurel. “My brother and I took the long way around through the desert when we first moved here. It is not a very pleasant journey.”
“This should be a quicker route, then?” asked Hal.
“Much,” said Laurel. “The dragon being gone changes things for Fool’s Valley. I wouldn’t be surprised if part of Maxim Cedric’s reason for inviting me to court is to negotiate terms for expanding the homestead into a full plantation.”
The sky was a clear expanse of blue overhead, and the autumn wind blew with unseasonal warmth. The mountain pass meandered back and forth in a northern direction with occasional switch backs where the slope became too steep.
Hal saw exactly what had made the pass so dangerous as they approached its middle. The peak of the mountain directly to the west, where he’d confronted Aangavar, had a perfect view of wide sections of the trail, leaving anyone fool enough to attempt a crossing completely exposed.
He’d gone back up the mountain in the time since the dragon’s death, mostly out of curiosity. The undead husks he, Vrodas, and Zoria had fought against had not regenerated or retaken the cavern, so the journey had been easy enough.
Strangely, Aangavar’s body had disappeared from the place it had fallen, leaving not a single trace. Only the dragon’s large, tree woven nest and a few piles of animal bones remained as proof of the monster that had tormented the region for so many years.
“It’s downhill from this point on,” said Laurel. “Look, Hal! Check out the view.”
He pushed the mare forward to pull even with Laurel, and his breath caught at what she’d bid him to see. To the north of the mountains was a stunning expanse of green, fertile hills and wide, rushing rivers. After spending so much time living in the valley, pressed up against the hostile desert, he’d kept low expectations of what the land to the north would look like.
This land is more beautiful than any of the provinces back home.
He could see packs of animals, deer, wild horses, and even some rugged looking sheep. Farms were scattered across the flatter sections, but there were fewer than Hal would have expected. To the north, pressed up against the river and the ocean’s coast was a city built of dark stone.
“Is that where we’re headed?” asked Hal, gesturing to it. “No way is that a week’s journey for us. More like a day or two, at most.”
Laurel shook her head.
“That’s Ostreach,” she said. “The home city of Great House Morwell. We’re heading past it, to the northeast.”
Her tone of voice made it clear that it wasn’t a place she thought of with much fondness.
“And… will we be stopping there to rest for a night?” asked Hal. “I can’t imagine that it’s far off our path if we’re headed northeast.”
Laurel looked over at him in her saddle, frowning.
“We can’t really expect hospitality from Ostreach,” said Laurel. “It’s complicated. The leader of Great House Morwell is High Lord Proctor, and the relationship between him and Maxim Cedric has always been strained.”
“Okay,” said Hal. “And that’s an issue for you because…”
“My father, and later my brother, both swore fealty to the Maxim,” said Laurel. “We’re allies of Great House Wilde, but not powerful ones. The only thing us arriving in High Lord Proctor’s court would do is offend him.”
“Why don’t we just stay at an inn, then?” asked Hal. “It looks like a big city. I doubt he’d even notice if we were careful.”
Laurel let out an exaggerated sigh. The two of them were continuing along the pass, and the trees slowly rose to block their view of the region ahead.
“I keep forgetting how much you don’t know, not being from around here,” she said. “Osteans are a very insular people. Their city is on the ocean’s coast, and it has a history of being independent and going its own way.”
“So you’re saying they aren’t very welcoming of visitors?” asked Hal.
“Not especially,” said Laurel. “But they aren’t bad people. They just have a different perspective of who they are, and what threatens them. I don’t know if you noticed, but there are very few farms around the city, even in the spots between hills where crops would grow well.”
“Yeah,” said Hal. “That seemed weird to me.”
“It’s because the Osteans don’t view the land there as their own,” said Laurel. “Their city was founded by ocean traders many hundreds of years ago, back when the seas still allowed ships to travel safely out to the far islands.”
She stood up straighter in her saddle, pulling at Toothy’s reigns as they turned around a particularly sharp bend in the path.
“To this day, the Osteans continue to send out trading ships and expeditions,” said Laurel. “Several per year. It’s all in hopes of reaching out to their original land and reestablishing the trade and travel routes that brought them to Krestia’s Cradle originally.”
“With no luck?” asked Hal.
Laurel shook her head. “The only ships that ever come back are in bad shape, and only carry stories of massive storms and sea dragons.”
Hal considered what she was telling him for a moment.
“Well, they aren’t wrong to try,” he said. “There are civilizations beyond your ocean, as surely as there are civilizations beyond the desert. I’m proof of that.”
Laurel furrowed her brow, looking at him in a way that suggested that she hadn’t thought about it from that perspective.
“I guess you are,” she said. “Halrin Kentar. The man from beyond the desert.”
“Don’t call me that,” said Hal. Laurel laughed, and sped Toothy ahead along the path.
CHAPTER 8
They spent the afternoon making their way down the mountain pass, exiting out into the hills as evening fell. The horses were thrilled by the thick, lush grass covering the rolling landscape. Hal and Laurel decided to make camp for the night at the top of a hill with an expansive view of the valley below.
“Can you look around for some firewood, Hal?” asked Laurel. “I’ll get started on setting up our tent.”
Hal winced.
“I’m not sure that a fire is such a good idea,” he said. “From where we are, it’ll be visible for miles around. It might not be wise for us to announce our presence so openly.”
Laurel waved a hand dismissively.
“You’re worrying too much,” she said. “We’re barely a day’s ride from Ostreach. Bandits wouldn’t operate so close to High Lord Proctor’s city, not with his punishments.”
Hal relented, and canvassed the area back toward the mountain pass for kindling. He used his heartgem to spark the flame, frowning as he noticed how dim the ruby light it emitted was becoming. He’d gotten used to emptying and refilling the ruby essence within it while training with Cadrian, but he had no idea how long it would be before he saw her again.
Laurel cooked a very humble dinner, only using the fire that Hal had worked so hard to make to warm bread and brew tea. They ate in companionable silence, sitting shoulder to shoulder on the grass.
The tent was made of oiled leather, and barely large enough for the two of them to sleep without being on top of each other. Hal wondered how comfortable Laurel could be, sleeping in such close confines with a man, but let the thought fall from his mind as he saw her climbing fully clothed into her sleeping bag.
Harvest Tournament (Sexcraft Chronicles Book 2) Page 4
