Trestan rose and went to his father. He saw tears in the eyes of the older man. It wounded Trestan to have upset his father in any way. Now the young man knew the conversation he had avoided that night of the battle, when he had run off alone. He had to admit, if the same conversation had come up that night, he would never have left home on his adventure.
Hebden accepted the fact that his son was leaving, with or without his blessings. “If I can’t talk you out of it, then I can’t help you very much. I pray that if there is a god or goddess guiding you, they guide you back home in one piece, and soon. It would be a terrible god that leads you away from such a wonderful home for nothing, and I would have strong words for that patron if they didn’t see to your safety.” Hebden put a hand on Trestan’s shoulder. “I will help you get packed and ready, and pray for you, but know I will worry for you every day that you are gone.”
Trying to hide his emotions, he wished his son luck, and helped him don his armor. The father gave the son more helpful advice the whole time, and the younger smith politely listened. It was an odd sensation for Hebden to be helping Trestan don his very own armor. If his son was indeed going on his last adventure, Hebden would have it no other way. Every buckle and strap was tightened with the greatest care. The candle’s light reflected off the shiny surfaces of the armor. Trestan admitted the armor seemed to fit better than ever before. The younger man worried they had spent too much time, but he had faith that his companions would wait for him.
Hebden approached Trestan with the magical elvish sword, the last piece to be added. He first looked at it unsheathed, marveling the play of the light across the runes on the blade. After slinging it across Trestan’s back, the father stepped back to admire the look.
The older smith pointed to the hole on the breastplate. “We never had the time to get that fixed. Are you sure you can’t stay long enough to remedy that?”
Trestan frowned at the open slot in his armor, realizing how tempting such an area would be to an enemy. “There is nay time. It will simply have to do the job as it is now.”
An uncomfortable moment passed as they searched for something in each other’s eyes. Words were found to be lacking as the two faced each other for possibly the last time. They stood, man to man, with no harsh feelings between them.
Hebden finally reached out and pulled a willing Trestan into a tight hug. “I love you, son. You are the best iron I ever forged. Gods speed the day that I might see you ride home and tell me all about your adventure. I want you back by my side to help me work that forge; I just can’t put as much of myself in the work without you here.”
Trestan had tears in his eyes as he responded, “Amen to returning home speedily when this is all over. I love you too, father. If the gods have any sympathy for a poor boy that dares lay claim to dreams, they will bring me back safely. Until I get back, put your heart in the tasks at hand as much as I am putting my heart into this. I’ll be back, and I’m hoping you will have all the work done…just so that I can sleep in late!” That comment brought forth a chuckle from Hebden’s teary face.
For the second time in a week, Trestan Karok walked out of his home on the road to unknown adventure. This time, with his heart buoyed by the peace of mind coming from his father’s blessing.
* * * * *
Dovewing was resting in the courtyard just as she had been earlier, but there was no sign of her kidnappers. The hour had grown later than Trestan had wanted, for the eastern sky was lighting up considerably. Other people were out on the streets, paying no particular attention to him or the flying craft. Villagers up at this early hour generally were performing chores in preparation for a new day.
From the stable, Petrow hissed at him and waved to hurry closer. From out of other hiding places the others appeared. Apparently they had all tried to keep a low profile one way or another. Petrow noticed a waraxe carried in Trestan’s hands. He looked at it questionably, but then the surprise lit up his face as Trestan presented it to him.
“A gift from my father. He had this axe sitting in a pile of weapons requisitioned by Lord Verantir last month, yet still not picked up. He figures you will want to use it before such time as when the noble gets around to remembering it.”
Petrow took the one-handed axe in his hands and smiled. He turned it over in his hands, admiring the virgin quality. The handyman even gave it a few practice swings to test its balance. Opposite of the blade was a flat hammer-like head for smashing things on the backswing if needed. “Thanks, to you and your father. I really was hoping I would have something in my hands that was better than that old woodcutter’s axe.”
The companions once again converged on the vessel to take off. Salgor was the only one still hidden on board the ship, resting under a blanket on the rear couch. As quietly as possible, the rest clambered on board and took their seats. Mel hopped up on a low wooden box at the helmsman’s chair, though his gnomish nose barely peeked over the rim of the dove figurehead unless he used another nearby box to stand on.
“Now hold on tightly,” Mel spoke, “I won’t promise a smooth ride when we start out. I’ll need time to get acclimated to the proper lift needed…”
Cat grinned from her position, holding onto a portion of the guardrail. “Don’t worry Mel, we have faith in you. Please hurry and get us into the air, before someone raises any kind of alarm.”
Trestan and Petrow sat closer to Salgor. Although the dwarf seemed healthier, they weren’t sure if he had all his strength back. The two humans sat on either side of him in case he needed their support. All their equipment was stored for easy access under the deck hold, or strapped to themselves. As their chosen pilot readjusted his seat, the rest of them traded hopeful smiles for this new trip into adventure. As much as each of them feared new dangers ahead, they felt their kinship growing, and that kinship emboldened them for what lay ahead. It was a quiet moment. With the eastern sky brightening, they were eager to be in the air and on their way. Finally, after Mel stretched his arms to loosen up his sleeves, he reached out and touched one of the gems on the control panel.
Nothing happened, even after he pushed it a second time.
The rest of the companions still kept grins on their faces, though eyes betrayed moments of doubt and worry. Mel Bellringer cleared his throat, smacked his lips together once, and then seemed to react with a new idea. “Of course, silly me!” He then moved his hands over a different part of the control panel. The companions heard him flip some kind of switch.
Nothing happened, even after he flipped it a second time.
By this time some worried glances shot between the companions behind the gnome’s back. As the tiny sorcerer pulled at his pointy beard, they heard his other hand drum nervously on the chair. Cat was beginning to throw worrisome glances towards the street, noting that other people out and about. Indeed, she was a little concerned that after all this effort, they might have some explaining to do if they were still sitting on the ground when Korrelothar came back to the village. The dwarf, Salgor, was looking over the side of the magical vessel. His fear of magical devices overriding his trust in his new friends at the moment, he started wondering if it wouldn’t be better if he just jumped off of the magical contraption while he had the chance and found some other course of action. Trestan leaned towards Mel, about to speak, when a noise interrupted him.
SLAM!
The five of them jumped in their seats as a sudden loud noise came from overhead. All eyes looked up to see a figure in the window of a second story inn room. The occupant of the room had thrown the shutters open to breathe in the fresh air of the morning, but lucky for the companions the man hadn’t looked down yet. The person performed a strenuous yawn and stretch, and when it was complete he turned away from the window. The five of them were now quite jumpy about being discovered without getting the vessel off the ground.
Cat whispered a few encouraging words to Mel, hiding her underlying worry. Mel pretended to be more in control of the situation than he was
, and proceeded to speak softly as he stared at the controls in front of him. Trestan finally leaned forward, as the gnome’s right hand hovered and drifted over a few gems that seemed to work as buttons. The young smith asked, “Mel, pardon me but you do seem a bit nervous. I was wondering if the elf had indeed taught you everything.”
“Aye, he did,” Mel answered, though his brow was furrowed in concentration over which button to try next. “He taught me everything, well, almost everything that I needed to know. Everything but a couple things.”
Just then Mel found a control that worked. With the flip of a switch, the crystals on the underside of Dovewing began their familiar hum as they came to life. The deck began a small, but steady, vibration. Mel let out a small cheer, after breathing a sigh of relief. Between the noise of the magical craft and the gnome’s cheer, a few heads on the street turned to find the source of the commotion. Cat noted the inquisitive stares from the few people that were on the street.
The half-elf seemed to duck lower in her seat, as if that would help to hide her, and she told Mel, “We need to get up in the air now. Some people are watching us as we speak.”
Mel looked about and saw the truth of Cat’s words. He wiggled once more to get situated atop his box-seat better, and then he firmly gripped both levers that controlled how the craft maneuvered. Trestan still had a question in his mind, and it would not rest. The young smith spoke. “I just want to clarify something. You said that the elf taught you ‘almost’ everything? Everything but a couple things?”
“Um, Aye.” Mel looked left and right as he noted the open distance between the stables and the inn. It was a tight space to fit in, but Korrelothar had made it look easy on the way down.
Trestan sensed that the gnome was avoiding something. It was becoming obvious Mel hadn’t seen everything that he needed to operate the vessel. The young smith wondered how risky this plan was going to get. “If you don’t mind me asking,” Trestan paused, but realized there was no subtle way to ask if he wanted a straight answer from the gnome. “What was it that you didn’t learn about? What didn’t he teach you?”
“Well, uh…” Mel decided there was no harm in letting the rest in on some minor details. “Takeoffs and landings…we didn’t really cover that part.”
Behind Mel, four pairs of eyes bugged out, and four jaws dropped at about the same time that the gnome yanked back on the control lever. Dovewing leapt off of the ground with a jerk. The stomachs of every companion dropped as the magical vessel sprung free from the bonds of gravity. The crystals under the vessel hummed louder, but they were nothing compared to another sound coming from the deck. Salgor, who was frantically hanging on after almost losing his seat, was swearing his fill of dwarvish curses.
CHAPTER 20
The companions gripped tightly to any portion of Dovewing they could as it lifted away from the ground. The ornate railing, along with its many carvings of creatures of flight, suffered through several pale knuckles. Salgor cursed loudly, and both Trestan and Petrow reached out to assist him from sliding around. The vessel rose into the morning sky, but had yet to clear the rooftops of the inn or the stable. Mel whooped for joy, until he looked up and saw how close he was drifting to the roof of the inn. The occupant that had thrust open the shutters returned to his window to investigate the noise. Cat could have touched him as they rose past.
“Gods save me!” The man cried out, as he fell backwards from the window and into the darkness of his room.
“Mel! Watch out!” Petrow called to the gnome as he watched the overhanging roof of the inn getting closer.
Cat rolled off her seat and into the middle of the deck. She fully expected the gnome to clip the inn rooftop. Instead, Mel yanked hard on a lever to slow and move the craft. The ship tipped a bit, but started to drift away from the overhanging roof. As the deck still rose, the companions saw the inn was no longer a danger.
Unfortunately, Mel didn’t notice how close he maneuvered to the stable after making his correction. Trestan, on that side, had the instinct to look that way just in time. Roughly two feet of wooden planks hung past the stable walls to dangle over the courtyard below. He pulled back his hand from the guardrail only a moment before the rail met the overhanging stable roof. The port guardrail and its ornately carved griffon door raised several planks. Dovewing jerked abruptly as the old oaken craft shattered past that portion of the stable roof. Pieces of the broken roof dropped onto the deck or fell to the courtyard below. Trestan squeezed into Salgor on the couch to avoid the mess of wood and dust scattering over that side of the craft.
Several new scratches were now part of the railing and the ornate carvings along that side. The stable, however, had a gap in that side of the roof. They could hear the panicked whinnies from horses inside the building. Several people on the street witnessed the collision and were pointing and shouting. Although the companions couldn’t hear it, there was a frantic amount of prayer going on in the inn room that they had passed by so closely.
The companions, who had been scattered in disarray on the deck from the scare, shakily got back to their bench seats. They looked at the cracked wooden pieces of roof lying on the deck. Only Trestan was close enough to venture a look over the side rail to see the new scratches marking the carvings there.
Mel looked back over his shoulder sheepishly. The gnomish sorcerer ascertained the scratches that he could see, and couldn’t help but notice a few glares directed at him from the rest of the companions. “Don’t worry! That section already had some past battle-damage on it already. I’m sure he will hardly notice the scratches, if he even sees them at all.”
* * * * *
Once settled in for the ride, they truly enjoyed the beauty of the journey. The buildings of Troutbrook shrank below them. The church looked no larger than a wagon, and soon the path of the brook was seen as little more than a blue line running a crooked course across the landscape. Mel planned to fly in the same direction that they had come from before, retracing their steps back to the bluff before venturing out across an expanse of open water. Very soon after their flight started, the sun ascended enough to put them in an almost dreamlike world.
To Trestan, this was very new. The young man had not been able to enjoy the flight that brought him safely home. Even for the others, the sights that morning were a special treat. The rising sun cast light and shadows across the whole world. As they traveled, several flights of birds could be seen around them, and sometimes even below them. Somehow the air seemed clearer, as the miles stretched out below them. Morning mists rose off of bodies of water, only to play odd tricks with the sunlight that tried to burn through them. The southern mountains loomed in the distance, though from the ground it was a rare day you could see them so well from Troutbrook. Clouds took up some portions of the sky, yet the magical vessel found itself flying high enough to pass through several wispy ones. Indeed, shortly after first taking off, Mel climbed to a very high altitude to see the world from a whole new perspective. Even hawks that soared at lofty heights were passing below the vessel during the first part of that journey.
Eventually Mel had to descend to a lower height, so as not to miss any landmarks. They still floated effortlessly over hills, woods, and rivers, though no roads were easily visible between Troutbrook’s surroundings and the eastern shoreline. At best, they saw occasional game trails or signs of campfires from whatever races lived and thrived in the wilds. Everyone simply enjoyed the view or chatted quietly. No one admitted to being tired despite the long night. Their surroundings were so visually stunning that they were too excited to rest.
“My, that is a magnificent wonder,” Petrow pointed away to the east. “Look over there, below those feathery clouds.”
The companions all looked to see what had grabbed the young man’s attention. They saw some low clouds over a pasture. What most stuck out about the area was the appearance of a rainbow, stretching from some distant place down through those clouds to the valley below them. Never had any of
them had such a wonderful and full view of a rainbow from its towering arch down to its base. The expanse of vibrant colors stretched for miles.
Mel said, “Among my people is a saying. A rainbow is actually a full circle, though we only see the upper half of it. The lower half travels underground, for the rainbow is a ring that binds air to earth. This connects the land that we live on to the air we breathe.”
Cat tried to recall a tale from the elvish people, and she shared it as soon as it came to her. “The elves have spoken of the legends of rainbows. I can’t tell you what exactly a rainbow is, but I can tell you what is found there. The elves say that wherever the rainbow touches the land, you will find unicorns at play there.”
“Bah,” scoffed Salgor.
Cat looked over to the dubious dwarf warrior. Physically, he seemed to have recovered from the cold spell. Certainly Daerkfyre’s follower seemed to have his old manners back.
“Really, I’m serious.” Cat continued, “There is a song about it. ‘After rains surrender to the brightening day, where rainbow touches earth is where unicorns play.’”
The companions looked at the rainbow and the never-ending horizon. Mel though about what Cat said. He turned to face them and asked, “Why don’t we just have a good look for ourselves?”
Salgor protested immediately. “So now we are choosing to take the scenic route?”
Cat remembered how sick he had gotten on the first flight, and it seemed he was reacting the same way. The dwarf didn’t want to be on board the flying machine any more than he had to. The half-elf, intrigued by Mel’s suggestion, wanted to take advantage of what might be her only opportunity to see if the elven legend held true.
The Earthrin Stones 1 of 3: Inheritance of a Sword and a Path Page 39