He rode alongside two ladies also dressed in formal, eye-catching attire. One was Lady Shauntay Tessald, wearing her customary smile alongside a rather conservative coverage of clothing. Her garb hid her cleavage and legs, since her father accompanied her this night. An elegant ball gown accentuated her curves in a more traditional manner, as she rode sidesaddle on her horse. Her hair bound up in a fashionable manner; her skin washed clean of the dirt of the road. Perfume floated about her for those close enough to appreciate it. The wife of Lord Verantir was still out of town, likely still in the dark about her daughter’s safe return. Therefore, the other lady riding alongside the noble was someone unknown to most of the village.
Dressed in an extraordinary red gown, and with hair also done up in a fashionable form, rode the adventuress Katressa Bilil. Every trace of the road had been washed from her body, followed by perfumes and lotions to further enhance her charismatic qualities. He horse bore her weapons, while the half-elf seemed to wear no implements of war, (except for those hidden in secret areas of her dress). Among the heavenly bodies shining upon the gathering, Katressa’s bore radiance greater than that of the young Tessald woman.
Marching in formation, around the trio of riders, were the majority of those house guards that still remained. They bore the modest blue standards of the village, and wore their full armor. Missing were those who had ridden south to search for the returned noble, as well as those who still remained on the mansion grounds for security there. Attendants flocked the horses, serving to assist the riders.
The noble’s entourage passed the lines of villagers and torches, proceeding to the center of the celebrations in front of the inn. The crowd parted for the procession, and then closed behind them once they went past. The companions sought each other out as Lord Verantir approached. Lady Shauntay indicated the party with a nod of her head, and her father changed direction accordingly. The noble drew up to a halt a short distance from the companions. They stood together in front of the inn, with the exception of Cat who still rode alongside the noble. He scanned over the company, though he seemed to linger on Korrelothar the longest. The whole group made a visible efforts to stand straight and avoid appearing like they were nervous, which indeed they were!
Finally, the lord of the village spoke. “Will the brave rescuers of my daughter come forward and stand before me? I would like to personally thank those who rescued the jewel of my manor.”
Cat dismounted and joined the others as they stepped forward. She flashed a bright smile to each, indicating that her time in the manor must have gone well. She seemed especially pleased to see Trestan standing straight and apparently healthy. In a line they stood: Korrelothar, then Salgor Bandago, Petrow, Trestan Karok, Katressa Bilil, and finally Mel Bellringer. Lord Verantir also dismounted, approaching the band on foot to see them…well, most of them…eye to eye. Lady Shauntay approached on foot as well, performing the introductions to each member in turn. Petrow had to keep from letting out a laugh when she looked at him as if she’d rather slap him rather than introduce him in a friendly manner. The young noble put on an extra smile for Trestan, though it was lost on the blank face he returned. The young noble’s father had many pleasant things to ask and say of the adventurers, finding out where they originally came from, and commending them on their actions. As Lord Verantir moved down the line, the companions were amazed that he spent a long time conversing with Korrelothar. It seemed nothing more than small talk, though there was a lot of chatting. He asked about Orlaun, and confirmed the elf was a member of a wizard guild there. At one point the noble’s eyes drifted towards Dovewing, admiring the craft. He used exquisite manners thanking each one in turn. Trestan wasn’t sure if he expected a bigger fanfare or some rare and exotic gift, yet at the same time he was glad enough to be the honored guest at such a big celebration. He never expected the lord to thank him for something in the presence of the entire village!
“You stand here in my gratitude for the return of my only child,” Lord Verantir Tessald addressed them all. “There is nay greater gift that you can give to a parent. You saw a crisis and you did your duty well to serve your lord. I hear you performed quite well against long odds.”
With a gesture, several attendants wheeled forward a small cart. He threw aside the covering, revealing a selection of wines. “I was saving these for a special occasion. I can think of nay reason why this occasion isn’t most special. Enjoy these with my compliments. Resume your festivities!”
Standing closest to the cart as they were, the companions proceeded to indulge themselves in selecting a vintage. Other villagers tentatively approached, ready to assist in drinking the gift. As they awed at some of the renowned wines present, Petrow whispered to Trestan.
“Psst. I don’t suppose you heard what kind of monetary reward he might give us? I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but isn’t he supposed to hand us a bag of gold or something?”
Trestan smiled, “I can’t complain. This is finer than anything I ever expected to happen to me here, in all my life! But, if it satisfies your curiosity, you can always go over and ask him about the gold reward.”
Petrow could feel the sarcastic dare of the last sentence. He shook his head, but his eyes went back to the noble. “Seems that he’s cornered our friend there.”
Lord Verantir had snagged Korrelothar’s attention once his formal thanks were over. They stood ringed by guards, having an amiable conversation. The noble seemed to have a lot of congratulatory words for the visiting elf, and the companions overheard him calling the wizard a “distinguished emissary from Orlaun.” At some point a remark was overheard to the effect of, “So few people of your high standing pass this way…”
Trestan picked out an elvish wine, which he handed to Cat. She smiled back at him, “We’ll need some proper glasses for this, thank you for picking this one out for me.”
The young smith said, “My pleasure indeed. We were getting worried for you. I was wondering how things were going up there.”
Cat giggled, “I’d say it went very well. You should have seen the tearful reunion. All this time I was more worried about you! I’m glad to see you on your feet again.”
Cat cradled the elvish wine against her, “In regards to the noble, he was all ears. He wanted to hear everything, though some things he showed far more interest in than others.”
Her gaze led them all to look at Korrelothar, who was still the object of the noble’s attention. Petrow asked, “The wizard?”
Cat nodded, “I doubt we’ll get near so much attention from Lord Verantir again. I was pampered and allowed to wash up, but mainly it was a father-daughter reunion and I was more like a visiting servant. Well, with some special treatment I must admit. He is honestly very thrilled to have his daughter back, but the political side of him wanted to get to know our elf wizard better. I mean, look at Dovewing! How many others visit this village showing such wealth and possibly prestige? I think once he settled into the realization that his daughter was safe, he saw the chance to expand his own small circle of influence.”
Trestan and Petrow both shook their heads. It seemed that getting out of their adventure alive was the biggest reward they received. Their attention turned to Salgor, who expressed a large interest in the beverage selection.
“Nah, not enough kick. Ooh, here is one!” The dwarf pocketed one bottle rather than share with the villagers. At the look from the two young men, he spoke up. “I like a pile of gold too, but you can’t drink it! This here is about as good as it can get for me!”
CHAPTER 18
The companions passed around drinks, though Mel and Salgor indulged samples of each vintage before passing it on to others. The tongues of many became quite liberated if they hadn’t already been so, followed by conversations going along more wandering courses. Off to the side, the noble and his attendants continued entertaining Korrelothar. Lady Shauntay stood beside the visiting elf for some time, lingering close to her father’s side. This kept her away from the ot
her companions, which suited both parties just fine.
Trestan and Cat found a small table to share the elvish wine. The young smith was surprised to learn the elegant gown she wore was actually hers, and not something provided by the noble. Cat mentioned, “He offered, but there would not have been much there that would fit me. I often have a need to dress up on occasion, so I keep this special outfit in a special protective case in my pack.”
The other members of the party remained nearby. Between all of them, they touched on a few subjects. They confirmed to Cat the theft of the holy relic. Trestan and Petrow were treated to a description of the inside of the manor…for neither had even approached the border wall of the estate. No conversation subjects stayed serious for too long in light of the drinking and levity of the night.
When the elf wizard walked away from Lord Verantir’s side, Mel pointed it out to his companions. They saw the wizard go straight to Dovewing, then cast a spell. Another misty force field gathered and formed over the flying craft. The protective barrier served as an extra precaution in case anyone had unsavory thoughts in regards to the vessel. Mel watched him cast it and explained it to the others. Aside from placing some kind of magical trap earlier, the elf now had a barrier up that would not allow anyone to even touch the flying machine. When he was done, Korrelothar looked for the companions and approached them.
Petrow’s remark greeted him, “It seems you have made a local friend? He is giving you a lot of attention.”
The elder elf actually blushed, “I’m embarrassed to say, he is rather taken with me and any stories of Orlaun. You all have done much more a service to him and his family, yet he has singled me out for purely political reasons.”
Mel pointed to Dovewing, “Why the force field now after not having it all evening?”
“Well,” the wizard paused, “I was here earlier to watch over it. Tonight, however, I have been invited to stay in the manor as Lord Verantir’s guest.” In response, several groans and shaking heads followed as the less fortunate members of the party grumbled. Korrelothar quickly added, “It would have been impolite at the least to have said nay! I feel ashamed that he bestows such an honor on me, while ignoring the true rescuers. I am just concerned now, that if I attempt to stay for any long term in order to research the temple scrolls, I’ll have a lord interrupting me the whole time!”
The companions scoffed, wishing they had such a trivial problem such as a noble waiting on them hand and foot! They soon bid their goodbyes to the person who had hastened their road back to the village. The elf departed with the lord’s entourage, though the noble had the decency to say his own goodbyes to the companions. They got little more than a bow and a few words, but at least they weren’t totally ignored. Lady Shauntay also bid her goodbyes, yet looked much relieved to be going back to the manor. After the noble and his guards left, the party actually picked up a bit.
Trestan invited Cat to come with him to the smithy and meet his father. The rest of the companions had already been introduced, yet Petrow wouldn’t have been surprised if Trestan was just trying to get some private time alone with their attractive companion. Not like the notion bothered Petrow much, as he had plenty of local girls competing for his attention. The young handyman went off to the dance floor with one of them. Salgor and Mel continued to drink and chat by themselves. The two shorter members of the party were actually having a good time together, with Mel telling stories about his past adventures with dwarves. Mel told the tale of the dwarf stuck in a tunnel, and how he used a shrink potion to get the poor warrior unstuck. Salgor almost laughed himself off his chair as the gnome described the beating his knees took afterwards.
Cat followed Trestan down the street to the smithy. They passed other villagers who insisted on congratulating and shaking hands with them. For many, the celebration was winding down, though the band still played. Hebden Karok was just saying goodnight to a few friends as he looked over the campfire at the smithy. The older smith held out a hand to Cat when he saw her approach.
“You must be Katressa Bilil! Trestan has told me a lot about you.”
“Call me Cat, please. Trestan has told me much about you, and of your home.” The half-elf shook hands with Hebden. “I’m sorry I did not get a chance to meet you earlier. It is an honor to finally see you.”
Hebden smiled, but then narrowed his eyes mischievously at her and asked, “So, do I have you to thank for stealing my son in the middle of the night, off to some grand adventure?”
Cat blushed, “I only wanted my horse back! We actually recovered her before getting to Barkan’s Crossing.”
The emotions reflecting on Hebden’s face showed he only jested. Hebden was truly happy to meet a woman of whom Trestan had the highest praises. Cat continued, “As worried as you must have been for him, you should be proud! He is a brave man, and he follows his heart despite fear. You raised a fine son.”
Now it was Trestan’s turn to blush and shift uncomfortably as Hebden looked upon him. “Indeed I hope I did. I only worry sometimes that he found too much influence following the path of a paladin friend of mine.”
Trestan searched for words of his own, but Cat spoke first, “His arms have the strength of a smith; his heart the strength of a paladin. Whatever the future holds, I doubt he can go wrong.”
“And to think,” Hebden said, “it seems only yesterday that I was swinging a forge hammer with one hand, and holding him as a baby in the other.”
Trestan grew a deeper shade of red, “Can we switch subjects? I was introducing the both of you, so we should be talking about you two!”
The three of them laughed and joked out by the forge. Hebden and Cat seemed to get along well. Hebden hid one fear deep within him as they talked. He admitred Cat seemed to be a wonderful woman, but as Trestan had noted earlier she was an adventurer and a wanderer. He doubted she would stay in the village for long. Now that Trestan’s adventure was complete, would the young man be inclined to follow her when she left? The older smith knew his son would pick his own road to follow someday soon. Generations of the family had worked in the area, becoming smiths and other craftsmen. The father had always expected the son to follow in his footsteps, but he was coming to the realization that Trestan might choose another path.
* * * * *
Trestan and Cat walked side-by-side to rejoin the merriment outside the inn. Though many villagers had departed, or were passed-out in the street, the music and the dancing continued. The two of them smiled from the pleasant chat with Hebden, who had retired for the evening.
Cat spoke as they walked, “I don’t think I should drink anymore wine tonight. I’m feeling a bit tipsy and my head is bound to ache in the morning.”
Trestan nodded, adopting a sly grin. “I’ve had more alcohol tonight than most nights. I agree with you, we should do something other than imbibing wine right now.”
The raven-haired woman turned to take in his measure, as she floated ahead of him in her sweeping gown. “What do you suggest then?”
“Well, my mind seems foggy about some things said back at the little waterfall.” As Trestan spoke, Cat remembered when Trestan combed her hair, just before he fell unconscious from his wound. “But I do seem to recall a few things. Such as asking for a dance with you when we got back to the village.”
Cat smiled. She stopped and gazed at the band playing at the inn, then back to Trestan. “Are you asking me then?”
The young man, dressed in his finest, took her hand and offered a low bow. “I ask the honor of the next dance with you, Katressa Bilil.”
She giggled, and returned the bow with a formal curtsey of her own, “I accept, most graciously. Lead me to the dance floor, as you are my humble host, and this is your village.”
Trestan took her arm in his. They walked to the dance area, and were greeted by others as they made their way down the street. Trestan’s townfolk called out in a positive way and cheered his return to the festivities. They also attracted stares, smiles, and more b
ows and curtseys as people passed. Salgor and Mel waved and raised mugs in toast. The attention failed to unnerve Trestan. He walked tall and proud in garments richer than any he had ever owned before, and on his arms a radiant beauty that outshined the local noble girl. This was Trestan’s night, featuring the one reward that meant the most.
Trestan stopped by the musicians, separating from Cat long enough to whisper and put coins in their palms. He then returned to take her hand and find a spot in the street that suited him. The first dance was a popular local jig played at all festivals. It had already been played that night, but Cat had not been around for it. Trestan taught her the moves as they went, spinning in circles and pairs with other villagers. After that, they were treated to “River Reel”, a song that divided the couples into lines on both sides of the street. Couples would dart in and amongst the other dancers, sashaying up and down the line several times, while others clapped and hollered to the tune.
The “Dwarven Square” came next. Salgor grabbed a partner, a young girl about his height, and went with vigor into this dance. This was a more complex style featuring squares and lines that constantly changed across the street. It involved a lot of foot stomping and clapping to a steady rhythm, and one could see where it had developed from a dwarvish military training exercise. From this they changed tempo considerably into a waltz. Cat showed Trestan a graceful elvish style of dance that blended in perfectly. While Cat had the grace and agility to perform an eye-catching rendition of the elvish dance, Trestan tended to stumble about occasionally. Nevertheless, he kept up as much as he could and much fun followed. Eventually he could match or assist Cat with some fancy dance steps. Trestan’s focus was always on the beautiful half-elf. The backdrop of dancers disappeared behind Cat’s every move.
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