by B C Penling
“Lana,” Orderic began, “how about a hot bath, a nice supper and a warm bed?”
“It does sound wonderful,” Lana said, looking over her shoulder at the stables.
“Don’t worry, he’ll be well taken care of,” he said. He opened the door to the manor and motioned for her to enter. “Right behind the door here is a closet for your sword.” He stepped over the threshold and closed the door. Behind it, he opened a narrow wooden door that concealed a small closet that had a few long swords, bows and quivers hung on pegs in the wall.
“This is my father’s sword,” Lana replied stiffly. “I have not put it down since I received it.”
“I’m sure your father won’t mind,” he replied kindly.
“My father is dead, killed by Warisai,” Lana said, quiet and strong. “This is all I have from him. I’d be terribly upset if something happened to it.”
Orderic swallowed hard, looking unnerved by the mention of Warisai. “Very well, then. Keep it with you since it means so much. Just be cautious not to break anything. I had some guards come in here one too many times. Their last victim was my grandmother’s urn. You could only imagine what a task that was to clean up. She was everywhere.”
“Thank you,” Lana replied. “I will certainly be cautious.”
“This way.” Orderic led her down a hall to a washroom lit brightly by a lantern. On the edge of the tub was a large feline with ginger eyes that fixed on Lana suspiciously. Its ears were like sails with tufts of fur extending from them. She growled menacingly and leapt down. She darted past in a blur of sorrel fur. Lana stepped back as it tore past her.
“Pay her no mind. She’s just a grumpy house cat,” Lord Orderic said nonchalantly. “She’s always like that with new people.”
“House cat?” Lana repeated. “She acts feral.”
Orderic chuckled. “Yes, more or less, you’re right. She’s a caracal, a cat that lives far south of here. She’s my daughter’s pet but I’m not sure who owns who, really.” He pressed his hands together. “So, this is the washroom, feel free to use it whenever you wish. I’ll have a servant come assist you. She’ll fetch you a towel, some clothing and also fill the tub. Down the hall and to the right is the dining hall. When you’re finished, be sure to join us there for supper.”
She said her thanks and he strode away down the hall. She entered the room and sat on a stone bench. It wasn’t long before a maid entered with a towel and clothing. With a quick greeting, she set them on the wash basin and left the room. She returned with soap, a washing cloth and a drain stopper. After she plugged the tub she turned a gold handle on the marble wall. From a hole spewed steaming water that she allowed to fill the tub halfway. She turned the handle back and shut off the hot water before turning another gold handle. Out came cold water to cool the hot. She then turned off the cold water and left the room saying, “If you need anything more, just call or ring the bell.” She closed the door behind her and Lana latched it with the sliding lock.
She undressed, careful to hang her tunic on a peg above the bench. Caeda poked her head out of an inside pocket and looked around.
Nice place.
“You make sure you stay out of sight,” Lana whispered. “I don’t want that grouchy cat to find you.”
Not an issue. That cat can’t find me no matter how hard it tries. She jumped onto the washbasin and lay down after a good, long stretch.
Lana took the soap and washing cloth and stepped into the bath. The water was hot, welcoming and relaxing. She sank into it and submerged completely to wet her hair for washing. She sat up and lathered her hair with the fresh bar of soap and worked the suds around before rinsing. The soap smelled of roses and she assumed it was made of goat milk.
The relaxing smell of the soap and heat from the water nearly made her drift off to sleep. After not sleeping much since leaving Meridsani, it was easy to do. A knock on the door disturbed the sleep that was creeping up on her.
“Supper will be ready shortly, be quick if you wish, my lady.” It was the maid. “Don’t trouble yourself with cleaning up. I’ll tend the washroom whenever you’re finished.”
“Thank you,” Lana replied, getting out of the tub to towel off. The clothing the maid had provided was a pale cream color and made of soft wool; a pair of pants with wide legs, thick booties and a long sleeve shirt. She tied her hair back after drying it with the towel the best she could. She hung the towel and drained the tub. Then, she picked up her clothes and wrapped them around her sword before exiting the room. Although the maid had said she’d tend to the room, she felt better taking care of her own mess.
Caeda had disappeared but she felt that she was close. She walked down the hallway and entered the dining hall. Lord Orderic was already seated at the head of the table and beside him were two women and a vacant chair.
“Please, sit,” he said, gesturing to it with his hand. She strolled to the table gracefully and set her belongings on the floor beside her seat. She sat beside a brunette with square features and kind eyes like Orderic. Across from her was another woman who seemed slightly older. She was a brunette as well but had more subtle features.
“Lana,” he said, “this lovely lady here is my wife, Vyrdessa.” He placed his hand on top of hers and smiled at her with his eyes. “The young lady you’re seated beside is our daughter Farisa.”
“Pleasure to meet you both,” Lana said.
“Likewise with you,” Vyrdessa replied. “We’ve never had the pleasure of having an elf as our guest. What brings you all the way over here and with a dragon nonetheless?”
“Well,” Lana began. “Zen and I went to Elventon to see if we could stay with my kind but they weren't there. He was then injured trying to save some of your sailors and needed healers.”
“I see," Vyrdessa said. "Why Elventon? What about your home?”
Lord Orderic looked at her and shook his head. His eyes held a subtle warning that she read and looked apologetically at Lana.
“I’m from Arbortown,” she said.
Vyrdessa and Farisa took in a sharp breath. Lana looked at her hands in her lap, trying to avoid their gaze. She hated revisiting her family’s demise. She hated revisiting their deaths and the deaths of her friends. Each time it was like the reopening of a deep wound. It hurt.
“We know the feeling of your loss,” Vyrdessa said, placing both her hands on Orderic’s. “I’m sorry.”
The maid came in then and softened the awkward air. A tray of bread was in one hand and a plate of butter in the other. She left and returned with a pot of oxtail soup that she dished into bowls for everyone. Next, she brought out a small ham roast, followed by a heaping bowl of sautéed vegetables. Again, she dished everyone and left, only to return with a pitcher of water to fill glasses.
Lana started on her soup and almost finished before more questions were presented. This time she didn’t mind them much.
“My father said you came here with a dragon,” Farisa said. “What’s he like? Could I meet him tomorrow?”
“He’s like a brother to me,” Lana said. “He’s wonderful.”
“I thought all dragons were on Genetricis,” Vyrdessa commented.
“Yes, it’s quite interesting,” Lord Orderic said. “Do you know if he flew all the way here?”
“That's not my story to tell,” Lana replied. "He's told me only a little and I don't want to say anything incorrectly."
"Fair enough," Lord Orderic replied.
“What’s it like to ride him?” Farisa asked. “I’ve always wanted to know how it feels to fly.”
Lana smiled. “The wind in your face and the feeling of freedom takes you miles away from all your problems. It’s glorious. I miss it.”
“We all hope he will fly again,” Lord Orderic said.
“When he does, do you think he’ll give me a ride?” Farisa asked sheepishly.
“He’d probably like that,” Lana replied. Farisa smiled at her.
The women moved on to different subject
s, mostly related to the ways of elves. Lana, although saddened at memories, answered their inquiries that ranged from clothing styles to etiquette. Lana covered the propriety of their society, of land and animal stewardship, of leadership and labors of architecture. The topics were not exclusively a one-night conversation. Many more nights followed and Lana discovered quickly that talking at the dinner table was a normal occurrence for the Orderic family.
After supper she was shown a large upstairs bedroom where she would stay while Zen healed. It had its own fireplace, a small one, for chilly coastal nights. Beside it was a metal cradle filled with thin rounds of wood. On the mantle were stone horse figurines and above it hung a mirror in a dark, stained wooden frame. Opposite of the fireplace was a large four poster bed that matched the mirror’s frame and a dresser along the wall beside the door. There were no windows in the room but the door opened into a hallway that had plenty of windows that faced the stables on the north side of the manor.
Someone had delivered her sack of belongings that she had from Meridsani. It leaned against the bedpost, waiting for her to unpack it; something she’d do in the morning. She pulled back the blankets and sheet and sat on the bed. She was tired. It had hit her suddenly and she yawned.
She pulled off the booties and set them on the bed so she could slip them on in the morning. She slid her legs under the covers and then pulled them up to her ear. The pillow she rested her head on was goose down and the mattress didn’t feel far from the same. She felt Caeda crawl under the covers and curl up beside her stomach with a little sigh. Lana’s eyelids grew heavy and soon she was asleep.
CHAPTER 18
EYZIN DUPLICITY
When Lana wasn’t with Vyrdessa and Farisa, she was with Zen. His wing was doing better because the pain was gone but it still needed time to heal. Aalish, Elena and Mallowney came twice daily to check the splinting and sling. They gave him his dosages of herbal medicines that encourage the healing process. Their primary demand was for him to not move much. The low activity level made Zen irritable. He had never been so sedentary and equated himself to a wyvern.
In the afternoons, Zen enjoyed going for gentle walks. He took the easy pathways, along roads through the woods sunwake of the stables. Lana accompanied him on the walks and talked about the thing Zen missed most; flying. After the walks, Lana would have supper with Orderic and his family. Occasionally, the house cat would make an appearance and skulk through the dining room, casting dubious glances at Lana.
On every other night, they sat down and spent an hour eating and talking about a variety of things. That night, however, dinner didn’t go as it usually did.
Orderic’s butler appeared suddenly and quite shakenly announced that General Donovan had arrived at the port and would be at the manor shortly. The announcement prompted unusual expressions on Vyrdessa and Farisa’s faces. It was a mix of anxiety, worry, fear and sorrow. Orderic’s face had a multitude of expressions, too. Lana gathered that the general was a serious houseguest that likely bore bad news frequent enough to warrant such reactions.
Orderic cleared his throat and replied to the butler.
“Tell the general to meet me in the library.” His voice was weaker than normal and Lana noticed that he had started to perspire. “Ladies, please remain in your rooms while we meet.”
They vacated the dining table and quickly went upstairs to their rooms. The library made up the entire sunwake portion of the second story and had double doors at the end of the corridor to the right of the spiral staircase. To the left of the staircase, the hallway provided access to two rooms that faced north and also led to three rooms that occupied the sunrest portion of the manor. At the first room of the three, the corridor turned south and upon meeting the southern windows, it turned left again to create a hallway that was shaped like a horseshoe. At either end of the corridor, where it met up with the library, were double doors.
Farisa’s room was in the southern and sunrest corner of the second floor overlooking the harbor. She was the first to reach her room and locked herself within. Lana followed Vyrdessa and Orderic. He was hurrying her along the corridor with one hand around her waist. Lana presumed it was close to routine, almost like an organized drill. Who was this general and why was he the cause of such upset?
“Into your room, Lana,” Orderic said. “Please lock the door and don’t come out for any reason. He’s a very,” he paused, struggling to find the right word, “particular individual.” He continued ushering his wife down the corridor, not once checking to see if she obeyed.
Lana stood by her doorway and watched Orderic follow Vyrdessa into their room. She began to complain in a frantic whisper before he closed the door. Lana shut her door, too, but she remained in the corridor. She tiptoed closer to their room and tried to gather details of the conversation.
“Why can’t you just tell him to leave?” Vyrdessa hissed.
“You know I can’t do that,” Orderic replied urgently.
“Something must be done,” she whispered loudly.
“I need to go,” Orderic said.
Lana heard his hand touch the knob and she darted away into a triangular alcove opposite the middle room. She slipped behind a tapestry that hung behind a decorative suit of armor. She held the tapestry still and stood motionless, holding her breath. Lord Orderic exited the room apologizing to his wife and reminding her to latch the door. He strode down the hallway and Lana heard the door to the library click closed. She was about to leave the recess when she heard heavy footfall on the staircase. The general, it had to be.
Wariness effervesced from deep within and she felt as if her life depended upon her hiding. She released the tapestry and pressed herself against the wall.
Simultaneous clicks happened just then. One click came from down the hall when the library doors closed and another click came from behind her.
The click came from a brick that jutted out slightly farther than the others. When it yielded from the pressure exerted from her back, it slid flush with the other bricks. .
She quietly turned around, cautious not to bump the tapestry, and examined the wall. It looked normal and nothing was out of place, not even the brick that was now flush with the others. She examined the wall and discovered a recess in the stonework. She pushed on it, thinking the brick would move but, to her surprise, the wall budged slightly at the corner where it met the other wall.
She pushed on the wall again and it swung open to reveal an extremely narrow passageway. She stepped quietly into the space and felt around for the keystone that would unlatch the door from the inside. She didn't want to get trapped in there.
She shut the door as quietly as she could and let her eyes adjust to the darkness as best they could. With her hands guiding her, she walked carefully in the passage toward a faint beam of light at the end. She moved silently and slowly so as to not disturb the dust on the floor or make a sound. As she walked, she past numerous peepholes, including two that spied on her room. When she reached the end, she discovered her hunch was right. The hole at the end did look into the library.
The light entering the passage was from a peephole in the wall that she had to stand on tiptoe to see through. A candlestick had been placed close to the peephole which obscured the view of the room. She couldn't help but feel that it was intentionally set there.
She saw Lord Orderic who was seated beside the fireplace. He was smoking a pipe fervently and looking at the corner of the room by the northern doors. Lana’s neck prickled uncomfortably and a foreboding chill ran through her chest. Then, the general spoke, deep and ominous. His voice wasn’t anything close to what she was used to.
“Always so hot in here, Orderic,” the general said.
“My apologies,” he said quickly. “I could open a window.” He made to get up but sat back with an obedient expression.
Lana attempted to view the general at an angle, drawing close to the wall, but couldn’t see anything more than the books on the shelves. The wall relea
sed a malodorous puff of dust that smelled like a mouse might’ve died somewhere close by her face. She suppressed a cough and plugged her nose to prevent her from sneezing.
“No,” he replied. “I don’t want eavesdroppers.” His words sounded envenomed.
“I gather you’re here at such a late hour for some important matters,” Orderic said, liberating his brow from perspiration.
“Just requesting housing.” The general replied in a way that made Lana feel as if it was more of a demand. “My troops failed to accomplish a simple objective. I’m here to encourage them.”
“Of course,” Orderic replied. “You know where to go.”
“I know. They’re already there.”
“Oh, very good, then,” Orderic responded. “You must have some serious business to deal with indeed. Is it something we may offer assistance with?”
“You have assisted us by giving us your fastest ships. Just be sure to have them cleaned and prepped for our return journey. There's entrails and blood on deck and below that gets slippery in high seas.” The general took a few steps forward, feet falling heavily on the floor. He walked into view.
Lana’s breath caught in her throat and she nearly collapsed in shock. Her knees weakened acutely. Her limbs became heavy. Her heart all but stopped beating. There, standing in Lord Orderic’s library, was pure terror. There, standing in Lord Orderic’s library, was a Warisai. Two long horns stuck out the back of his head and his fingers and toes had talons sharp enough to carve into stone. He wore a cloak and some crude clothing that failed to cover his entire body. The scales beneath the clothes were a grimy green.
“However,” he added. “You’ve come across an elf, haven’t you?” the Warisa said, intrigued.
Lana wanted to run. Her heart began to race. Was he after her? She strained to listen, all the while her panic rising to an alarming level. Her heartbeat pounded loudly in her ears.
“Why do you ask?” Orderic asked, shakily.
“She has something I need. Where is she?”
Lana’s throat swelled in panic. Don’t tell him.
