“Interesting,” Senalloy said, “and very good for a first try. You hardly needed my help at all.” She reached out with a fingertip, touching his tunic and trousers, in a flash of sparks they obediently resized themselves to fit.
“Thank you,” he said. He paused for a moment. His voice sounded different. It wasn’t as deep, nor did it have that echo that he associated with entities of power.
Senalloy nodded and grinned.
“Nice,” Sarai murmured, looking up at him with a peculiar expression.
“What?”
“It’s new, but I like this you too,” she said with a smile. “Is this how you see yourself?”
“Hmmm?” He pulled at his ear. “I didn’t give it much thought.”
“He used to not like himself as much,” Senalloy determined. “Being Shael Dal—being needed and appreciated. He’s changed a bit. He’s more accepting of who he is.”
He felt his face. It felt normal. Why was she saying that? “Do I look weird?”
“You look fine,” Sarai said, taking his arm. “Let’s go. You too, miss chaperone.”
The three of them strolled through the dark halls of Green Run their footsteps loud in the stillness. In the distance, they heard laughter, from the sound Bannor guessed it was Gaea. Even relaxed and at ease, the all-mother’s voice and emotions could be sensed a hundred paces away.
“Sounds like they’re getting along,” Senalloy remarked.
Sarai nodded.
Back on the citadel grounds, Sarai aimed toward the glow of the city, taking them out through portis exemplar, Kul’Amaron’s main gate. Glowing moss-lights cast everything in hues of pale magenta. Shafts of illumination shone from the windows of taverns, inns, and residences creating pools of light where night-bugs danced and flitted. Glamour drifted down from the canopy of tree limbs in a gleaming rain of golden motes that made the skin tingle. Snatches of music and laughter wafted through the town, airy and surreal. As he looked up at the luminous interplay of color and shadow, he understood the legends of fairy rings and humans lost forever the elven glades. He himself felt drawn to the beauty and serenity.
In no particular hurry, his wife-to-be strolled down the lane beneath the high boughs with her hands behind her back. To Bannor it seemed she was immersing herself in the sights and sounds of the place that had been her home for centuries. She was obviously glad to have a town to return to, and blessed to be alive, healthy and able to enjoy it.
Bannor glanced back at Senalloy, the big Baronian lady ambled along with a smile on her face, seeming to take pleasure from what she was seeing and hearing.
He didn’t bother to ask Sarai how she planned to find the members of her staff. He assumed she’d already figured that out. He doubted she planned to search the whole city for them. He understood why she hadn’t simply used her shaladen telepathy to call them back. That would have been quite frightening especially to some of the more timid elves in her employ. He remembered the upset caused when he revealed his ability to speak Elvish.
After a quarter bell of meandering down the city’s byways, Sarai stopped in front of a large tavern. Of the establishments they had passed, the Golden Oak (translated) was, by far, the most boisterous they had walked by. Loud laughter and the sounds of inebriated carousing blared from the open windows and doorway. Of all the places, this seemed the least likely place to find his wife-to-be’s staid and reserved retainers.
Hands on hips, Sarai stared through the open doorway into the crowd.
“Sounds like a fun crowd,” Senalloy said with a grin.
“Yes,” Sarai said with a shake of her head. Taking a breath she plunged into smoke-laced air.
Dozens of elf patrons focused on them as they entered. Any trouble that might have come Sarai’s way seemed to be halted at the sight of Senalloy and symbol stitched into her gray tunic. Bannor saw half a dozen elves heading for the dark corners simply to be out of her sight.
Sarai didn’t have to force a path, patrons cleared out of her way as though she had the plague. She made her way into the back where some of the hardest drinkers were seated. Briefly, he wondered who she would find here in this den of ruffians and then he caught sight of two elder elf ladies surrounded by a coterie of young males barely a fifth their age. Both ladies were dressed in revealing black silk, assets on display in ways that he knew would be scandalous were it to be found out in court.
Bannor’s jaw dropped.
“Good evening,” Sarai said, nodding to the group at the table. “Psendra—Giliaja—you both look well.”
The men in the group turned to say something rude and shut up as they saw the giant looming over Sarai’s shoulder. They sank down in their seats.
Psendra, Sarai’s house mistress, cheeks rosy with the effects of strong drink, clattered back in her chair, almost sprawling in tavern floor. She managed to make a shaky rise to her feet, leaning heavily on the table for balance. “M-m-mistress!”
Sarai folded her arms and glanced at Giliaja, the house supply matron. The blue-haired elf lady swallowed, obviously even further into her cups than Psendra. Apparently, she had sense enough to know trying to stand up would just spill her into the floor. “Giliaja?”
Giliaja bowed her head. “Raija… it—it’s a s-s-surprise to see you!”
“Oh, of that, I have no doubt,” Sarai said in elvish with a grin. “You two seem to have been enjoying your time off.”
Psendra swallowed, brushing nervously at her pale hair as it fell across her face. “Mistress you are looking—well.”
“Thank you, Psenny,” she answered. “I feel excellent. Might I ask you two a favor?”
The house mistress nodded vigorously. “U-u-hhh, yes, of course!”
“I need the staff in the hall by tomorrow morning. Mother and Father want us to make breakfast for them, the Felspars and the Kergathas.”
“Certainly, Mistress,” Psendra assured.
Sarai leaned back, eying the inebriated elven woman. “Are you certain? You seem a bit—unsteady. I can contact the others myself if need be.”
The lady’s amber eyes widened. “Please, Mistress, d-don’t trouble yourself! W-we’ll manage. What time?”
“Eight bells,” Sarai replied. “Some of our friends will be along earlier to assist in some of the heavy lifting.”
Psendra didn’t demur, she simply bowed her head.
Sarai leaned forward. “Psendra?”
The matronly elf looked up, blinking in the smoky light. “Yes, Mistress?”
The princess gave her an arch expression. “Nice dress.”
The older elf gripped her chest as though she’d been shot and flushed scarlet.
She nodded to Giliaja. “Be well.”
The other lady dipped her head.
Sarai turned and headed out. Bannor saw her rocking back and forth and holding her sides like something hurt. When they were outside she let out a laugh that had tears coming from her eyes.
Bannor didn’t know the joke, but he could guess. After only a few score-days of being around the two house matrons even he had picked up on their prudish reputation and their open criticism of the slightest impropriety.
Sarai was shaking her head and grinning. “After a century, I finally catch those two!”
Senalloy stood in the street with arms folded watching Sarai with a smile. She raised an eyebrow. “Should you be getting so much enjoyment out of their embarrassment?”
The princess gripped his shoulder, still chortling. “Sen, you have no idea. Oh my, the number of times they… Oh, it’s just priceless. Just the number of times I was scolded for dressing like a ‘tart’ and drinking.”
He smiled, knowing his wife-to-be’s fondness for authority. “Well, princesses shouldn’t do those things.”
“Right,” she said with a nod, but still smiling. “Still, it’s the way those two postured and preached as though they were saints. I always suspected, but could never catch them. That’s what makes it particularly sweet.”
Senalloy looked over her shoulder into the tavern. “Do you suppose they can round everyone up in their condition?”
Sarai shrugged. She put an arm around Bannor’s waist and rubbed against him. “They have all their little boy-toys to help them. I know they’d rather kill themselves than disappoint me after being caught like that. I’d reveal their little secret.”
He frowned. “Would you do that?”
She looked at him one eye closed. “In a heartbeat, my One. I can’t even count the number of times they embarrassed me, and had mother dress me down for ‘my-own-good’. Aie.” She rolled her eyes. “For decades…” Sarai turned and looked back toward the citadel and sighed. “Well, I guess we’re done here.” She tugged on Bannor’s hand and headed back the way they had come. She sighed and looked up. “Too bad it’s not a nicer night.”
“Star, the night is always nice when I’m with you.”
She rolled her eyes. “A too-obvious attempt to win favor.” She pulled his hand to her mouth and kissed his knuckles. “The gesture is appreciated though…”
The three of them took a meandering course back toward the citadel. Sarai was obviously in no hurry to return to Malbraion. With a nap and the prospect days to come that didn’t immediately involve fighting for his life, Bannor was pleased simply to stroll through the trees and soak up the serenity. Senalloy said that it would be at least five or ten summers before they were haunted by the violence of the Baronians and their masters the Chyrith. A lot of good things could happen in that time and he planned to enjoy every moment he could building a life with Sarai. Compared to the war, even the never-ending pedantic minutiae of the wedding would be pleasurable.
Senalloy seemed to be enjoying herself as well. The enigmatic Baronian lady sauntered along, hands behind her back, a dreamy self-absorbed expression on her face. He wasn’t fooled for an instant by that distracted look, despite her apparent relaxation, she could flash into readiness in the blink of an eye. It seemed so strange that such a powerful creature would take such a subservient role, reduced to following youngsters around. He guessed that, in a way, it was little different than the personal stewards who enjoyed caring after children. When they first met Eclipse, Senalloy and the Kriar tarkath had likened their roles as guardians to ‘being on holiday’. With the war seemingly at his back, he certainly understood how the conflicts that might bother Bronawyn or Sarai would seem trivial indeed compared to the battering stress of a life-and-death struggle.
Regardless of the circumstances, after everything they’d been through, he trusted Senalloy. When she said she would protect their child, she had meant it. He found the adamant way she had spoken to be both reassuring and disconcerting. The intent was clear, she would protect the child even from them if she felt it justified. He couldn’t imagine anything that might cause that to happen, but in the course of time, anything, it seemed, was possible. He sure hoped nothing like that ever came to pass.
“How do you think I would look with a tail?” Sarai asked.
He jerked and looked over. “Huh? What?”
She gave his shoulder a playful slap. “Just seeing if you were paying attention.”
He leaned back and looked at her through one eye. “The tail you have is just fine.”
She rubbed her posterior as they walked. “Carellion, those mecha and their designs… I swear I need to be seated twice now!”
They pushed around a hedgerow and turned onto another lane.
“Star, they have a fine eye for what looks nice,” he told her. “You should have more faith.”
“Hmph. You and your udder rubbish.” She ran a hand down the center of her blouse. She sighed and glanced toward Senalloy who was rocking along without comment.
The silver-haired lady raised an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me. Slim Baronian women are considered ugly. A female who can’t pop out twins between battles and nurse a whole litter is discarded as useless.”
Sarai frowned. “That’s cruel.”
The lady sighed. “Indeed. It’s why I’m here so thoroughly enjoying myself. I don’t have to deal with that dren.”
“Well, I’m happy to have you. You’ve been a good friend to us.”
Senalloy made a little bow at the waist. “It’s nice to think I’ll have a place to be welcome and call home.”
Sarai dropped back a bit and looked up at the big woman. “Aren’t you going to be lonely?”
“Lonely?” The big woman tilted her head and glanced at Bannor. “Are you offering to share?”
He felt his face redden.
His wife-to-be frowned. “No. You know what I mean.”
“Sar,” Senalloy said. “Honestly, I’ll be okay. I’m not going to get bored or pine away overnight. Even though the whole family turned Shael Dal, I am certain there will be plenty to keep me entertained.”
Sarai eyed her. “Entertained?”
“Arminwen, sometimes you are too close to see the humor in things. Watching you and Bannor be parents…” She glanced at Bannor again. “I’m looking forward to that. It’s going to be interesting…”
“Caring for child is not that difficult…” Sarai started.
“Caring for a normal child might not be…” Senalloy said with a grin. “Vhina… she’s going to have special needs, and I strongly suspect she’s going to be exactly like her mother and grandmother.”
“Hey,” Sarai growled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Senalloy studied the skies with speculative expression. “Very interesting…”
“Oh, and I suppose you’re some sort of expert on raising children too?”
The silver-haired woman shrugged. She pushed out her lower lip. “Not really. Baronians don’t have childhoods. We’re born, we fight. The rest is training and survival.”
Sarai shook her head. “That is so grim. How are you not some kind of soulless machine like the others?”
Senalloy shrugged. “I was different,” she answered. “And they hate non-conformity. I was strong though, too strong to discard… My sister is the same way. Anyways, we battled to have our own selves. It took millennia but we eventually became something separate from our kind.”
Bannor felt a hitch in his chest. It was just another of many reminders of what a rare creature Senalloy was. To have experienced such a harsh life yet still be creature with warmth and feelings. He wasn’t even sure how that was possible. The short traumatic experience of the war that shaped most of his life was barely a footnote compared to the nightmare that Senalloy considered child-hood.
One thing was certain, he would make sure his daughter remained happy and safe. Senalloy spoke true though, with a potential war looming in the future they would have to balance love with discipline. What would little Vhina be like? He looked into Sarai’s violet eyes.
He glanced over to Senalloy. The silver-haired elder was watching him. The Baronian lady was right.
Vhina would be a handful.
That was in the future. For now, they had to put their lives back together and get things back on track. He knew what would be priority one after cleaning up the citadel.
The wedding.
He sighed.
Sarai looked up at him. “Why the sigh?”
“Declarations, dances, pipes, courtesies, forks, spoons, heraldry… urgh…” He raked his fingers through his hair.
She raised an eyebrow. “And, I thought you had it all memorized.”
“Well, yeah… but in front of a million people…”
She rolled her eyes. “Hardly a million…”
“Okay, it will just seem like that.”
“He’s cute,” Senalloy said with a shake of her head. “Without batting an eye he jumps on an enemy that can kill with a whim, and he’s afraid of a little performance in front of an audience.”
He stopped and leaned against a tree. “I’ve just never been very good at that sort of thing.”
Senalloy smirked. “They say imagining the audience naked helps.”
; He sighed. “Now, that would be awkward…” He put his arms around Sarai. “I don’t want to disappoint your family.”
She thumped his chest. “My One, I don’t think that’s even possible. You’ll be fine. I do recommend rehearsing, especially the twelve courtesies. Even knowing elvish now like you do, they can mess you up. I need to rehearse myself, and we have to get our timing down. So, we’ll do it like we’ve done everything—together!” She gave him a squeeze.
Bannor gazed in her eyes and smiled. Together. Together was a good word.
“Friend Bannor?” A deep male voice said from behind them. “By Ukko’s flame is that you?”
The three of them turned to see burly Laramis, dressed in a green surcoat and with mirror polished brass buttons, come striding down the path, the rain of glamour making halos around him. Giant Irodee stepped out of the shadows behind him. Gone was the appearance of a myrmigyne warrior, her long black hair was festooned with glittering jewels, the curves of the lady’s long body accented by a violet silk evening wrap. Hair in braids and looking very mature in some tailored gold court robes, their daughter, spindly Marta, hung on her mother’s arm.
“Hey, Laramis!” Bannor enthused, going forward to clap the justicar on the shoulder. “Good to see you.” He looked up at the paladin’s wife. “Lady Irodee, you look amazing!” He leaned over a bit to meet their daughter’s eyes. “And Marta,” he paused. “Or should I say, lady Marta, is looking very proper and attractive.”
Grinning, the young girl flushed and hugged her mother’s arm as she looked up at him.
“Good evening, Sir Laramis,” Sarai said, stepping up with Senalloy behind her. “Hello Irodee, Bannor is right, you are looking lovely tonight.”
The myrmigyne lady colored and nodded.
Laramis bowed. “Arminwen Sarai, well met, I must say that you are looking quite exquisite yourself.” He turned to Senalloy. “We were only briefly introduced, Lady Senalloy was it not? My greetings to you as well.”
The silver-haired Baronian nodded.
Reality's Plaything 5: The Infinity Annihilator Page 65
