by James Dale
“Greetings Elder Mika,” Jack beamed patting the dolphin’s flank as it swan up to the boat.
“Greetings Jack Serpent Slayer,” the Dau’tua elder chirped.
“Elua, how should I address your….” Jack said, then hesitated. Was he her father? Her king?
“He is both,” she replied, never taking her eyes off Arrinor, who was grinning foolishly. “His name is Daia’ma’chaea’ada’aerfal'mai. You may address him as Daia’ada. It means Sea Father. We have no word for…king.”
“Greetings Daia’ada,” Jack bowed, as much as was possible in the small boat. “You honor us with your presence.”
“Greetings Cu'ath'dathu,” the King of the Sea Children replied. His Mindspeak was strong, requiring no physical contact to establish a bond. Though his face remained stoic, Braedan felt the warmth of his welcome. He had slain Leviathan. Even as a human and not one of the Aerfal’Miera, he was held with honored among the Sea Children.
“Allow me to introduce the High Lord of the Staffclave, Perigaen…ummm, I am sorry, High Lord,” Jack apologized. “I just realized I do not know your surname.”
“Dre’kail of Annoth,” Perigaen added.
Jack relayed the introduction in Mindspeak before continuing. “This gracious Lady is Ara’fael Anath’raial, of the Ail’itharain Ailfar. And this is Lord Faendil and Prince Arrinor…Arri,” Jack snapped, “Quit your moon eying, and greet Elua’s father!”
“Sorry,” Arrinor stammered, finally taking his eyes of the beautiful Aerfal’Meria. No longer under the enchantment of Elua’s smile, he managed a passable greeting.
“You, I know well,” Daia’ada replied. “Elua has not ceased your praises since returning to us. Grasp the Trident.” He instructed Arrinor, presenting the weapon with both hands.
When Jack translated his request to the group, Ara’fael was about to protest but Faendil laid a hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward, whispered a few words to her and she grew still, regarding the Sea Father with a curious look. “Go ahead Arri,” she nodded.
Arrinor reluctantly released Elua’s hand but without hesitation placed it around the Trident’s shaft. His eyes widened in surprise, but he did not let go. Daia’ada seemed pleased with both reactions. The Aerfal’Miera studied the Ailfar prince for what seemed an eternity to the group, then smiled for the first time. “He is acceptable, Cu'ath'dathu.” He said, in the common tongue of the west, to the shock of everyone. His voice was deep and rumbling, like the waves crashing on a rocky coast. “When your war with the Fire Stone is finished, send word and I will meet his father to discuss terms.”
“Terms? What terms?” Arrinor asked, releasing the Sea Father’s weapon.
“How will I send word to you Daia’ada?” Braedan asked.
“Stand in the waves and call to the Dau’tua,” he replied. “Their kind inhabit all the seas. Word will reach me and I will bring Elua'danna'ma'chaea'aerfal'mai to him.”
“It will be done,” Jack nodded.
“It is done,” Faendil smiled.
“What?” Arri asked. “What is done?”
“Prince Arrinor,” Perigaen replied. “I do believe you just got engaged.”
“Thank you father!” Elua laughed, and reaching up, she pulled Arrinor forward for a kiss. The men turned away quickly. The beautiful mermaid was in her true form and thus unencumbered by clothing.
Their kiss lingered for some time until the Lady Ara’fael cleared her throat and broke the spell. “I think that’s quite enough Arri,” she said. “Save something for your marriage day.”
Arrinor blushed furiously as Elua released him and settled back into the water.
“Will the Aerfal’Miera aid me in my war with the Fire Stone?” Braedan asked, turning back to Daia’ada.
“The Aerfal’Miera do not involve themselves with the affairs of men,” the Sea Father replied. But you are Cu'ath'dathu. You slew the Great Serpent. In repayment of our debt. We will answer your call.”
“I have many ships sailing from the north,” Braedan said.
“We will aid them as we can,” Daia’ada nodded. “Send them word the Aerfal’Miera are their allies.”
“It will be done,” Perigaen assured him.
“Come Elua,” her father said, “The Cu'ath'dathu must go make his war.”
“Wait!” Arrinor cried as the mermaid moved to swim away. He took the silver circlet from his head, the symbol his status as an Ailfar prince of the House of An’Mera. Leaning down, he placed it on Elua. Her pleased smile made any words unnecessary.
“Bring him back safely,” Mika Elder instructed Jack. “An Aerfal’Miera cries of mourning brings distress to the endless seas.”
“I will do my best,” Jack nodded.
With a final nod, Daia’ada, Sea Father of the Aerfal’Miera, disappeared beneath the waves. Elua gave Arrinor one final wave, then with a flash of gold and copper tail, she followed her father. Singly and in pairs, the remainder of the Aerfal’Miera departed. The Dau’tua were the last to leave. As one, they leapt from the water with flips and bounds and raced off to the east, vanishing into the growing dusk.
“If this wasn’t your momentous event Lord Faendil,” Braedan said, breaking the silence. “Then I shudder to think what you may have seen.”
“It was High King,” the Seer Lord nodded. “If…if we survive this, one hundred years from now all the races of Aralon will look back on this day as…”
“Oh, don’t go telling me your visions now,” Jack replied. “No sense in spoiling the surprise.” But he said it with a smile.
“As you say,” Faendil replied, smiling in return.
“Well,” Braedan said, turning to the High Lord. “Shall we return to the Wind? The Lady Ara’fael had promised to get me home in three or four days. The Cu'ath'dathu must go make his war.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Dorshev Receives the King
Jack and Arrinor picked up their oars and rowed the longboat back to the Wind of Aeralnen. Ropes where thrown down and tied into place so it could be pulled up and secured and a roped ladder was tossed over the side. One by one, they climbed out of the longboat back on aboard the Wind. Jack and Arrinor were the last.
“Well that was a sight,” Alnordel said, extending his hand to Braedan and helping him over the rail.
“Wasn’t it though?” Jack admitted, as he turned to help Arrinor.
“You seem to be missing something, Arri,” Ailicia greeted her brother as he was once again aboard the Wind.
“It seemed appropriate…considering,” the Ailfar prince said hesitantly.
“So, are you what…engaged?” she asked.
“He is indeed,” Jack replied, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Though he won’t be the last of the An’Mera siblings to be so bonded if the High King has any say.”
It put an end to Ailicia’s questions, and earned him a scowl from the Lady Ara’fael.
“Captain,” Jack said, turning back to Alnordel. “Our business here is complete. Get the Wind underway. I suppose you need to take sightings of the stars or whatever and plot a course before my Spellweaver shifts us into the Stream of Time?”
My Spellweaver earned Jack another scowl. A dangerous look as well, which he pretended to ignore. “That is exactly what your Captain needs to do.” Ara’fael replied. “And quickly, before I change my mind.”
“You heard the Lady,” Braedan smiled. “Let’s get this party started. I’m going to go drink a toast to Arri and Elua. Anyone not Spellweaving or navigating is welcome to join me. Anyone who helps gets me home in four days will never have to buy a bottle of Surcca Valley again. Drinks will be one me.”
Dorad, the An’Mera siblings and Kirk Vanar joined him in the captain’s quarters. Everyone else it seemed was either busy with the ship or lending Ara’fael strength or finding something to do to claim their Surcca Valley for life. They made small talk, avoiding Arrinor’s engagement to a mermaid he’d only met four days ago, and the fact Ailicia was sitting so clos
e to Dorad their knees were touching. Kirk did most of the talking, and almost entirely consisting of his anticipation of being reunited with Gweneveare de’Araban. Jack sipped his wine and listened intermittently, distracted by the forces he could feel growing as the Spellweaver and Staffclave summoned the Stream of Time. He could feel it through Yhswyndyr and Sunheart, though the sword was five feet away from him and he had not so much as brushed the Highsword with his thoughts. It was like a tingling in his fingers and toes, a tickling on the inside of his brain. He wanted so badly to spring from his seat and go rushing out to….
“My Lord?” Kirk asked.
“I’m sorry,” Jack said, “My thoughts were miles away.”
“I asked,” Vanar continued. “When will we have your coronation? As High King? You know, of Aralon?”
“When Graith is dead and the Bloodstone is dust?” Jack shrugged. “I haven’t thought a minute farther ahead. Kirk, you know better than anyone I care nothing for a crown or ruling. I’d give it to you if they’d let me. Or you, Dorad. Would you like to be High King?”
Dorad almost had wine come out it nose. “Me?” he stammered. “I simply want to be remembered as something more than a disinherited prince and a failed pirate.”
“Failed?” Jack grinned. “You were an excellent pirate. I’ve been contemplating positions for you when this is all over and done with. Trust me, no one will ever remember our short time in the Brotherhood, other than a footnote in history. Ally will be telling outrageous stories of our heroism five hundred years after our bodies are turned to dust.”
“Jack!” the Ailfar princess cried. “What a horrible thing to say.”
“The truth is never horrible, my love.” Jack replied, “It’s just the truth. You and Arri will outlive us mere mortals by centuries. And Kirk…I don’t care a copper Th’rakken about my coronation. Tell us again, how blue are Gwen’s eyes?”
“You mock me, my lord,” Kirk said, hurt in his voice.
“I rejoice for you Kirk,” Jack corrected. “And you Arri. And…well, everyone who can find happiness with this looming darkness.”
“I think you’ve had enough to drink, cousin,” Ailicia said, standing to take his wine glass away. “Go to bed. Go to Anna and let her you are on your way before we are in the Stream of Time.”
“It’s too late,” Jack sighed. Ara’fael and the Lords and completed their task. Yhswyndyr had grown quiet the moment they were in the Stream. He wondered briefly if it was…resting…sensing they were beyond any threat from the Bloodstone. ‘You should rest as well,’’ the Highsword said…to him.
‘‘I will rest when Graith is dead,’ He replied. When Yhswyndyr did not answer, he decided it had indeed gone…dormant. Saving its strength? That was a troubling thought. “Come on Dorad,” he said, rising. “You have never seen the Stream of Time. Let’s go take a look. It may not be as monumental as Arri kissing Elua and changing the course of history, but it’s pretty cool.”
When Dorad stood and offered Ailicia his hand, Braedan smiled. Two down, two to go.
As they emerged on deck, Jack saw the Wind of Aeralnen was surrounded by fog. Not the normal fog of a socked in coastline or something so trivial, but the shifting mist Braedan had learned accompanies the Stream of Time. He went to join Alnordel, standing at the railing. Braedan watched for a few minutes, saying nothing, until he thought he saw shadows in the mist, racing alongside the ship.
“Are those…”
“Some of the Dau’tua have come along for the ride,” Alnordel nodded.
“Any of the Aerfal’Miera?” Braedan asked.
“None I have seen,” the captain of the Wind replied. “But they may be beneath the waves. Can you…sense…them King Jack?”
Braedan had never attempted Mindspeak in the Stream of Time. He pushed his thoughts out and felt…nothing. Maybe the Bloodstone was not the only power than could not penetrate the Steam? “I cannot,” he replied.
“Perhaps they are with us nonetheless,” Alnordel said. “I wouldn’t mind stealing a kiss from one of those mermaids myself. At Five hundred and twenty, it is perhaps time for me to settle down. Young Arrinor cannot be the not be the only Ailfar so…lucky.”
“Lucky or spellbound?” asked Jack with a grin.
“I think they are one and the same,” Alnordel smiled.
“What do you think, Dorad,” Braedan asked his friend.
“It looks like fog to me,” he shrugged. “Though we should be moving…through it. Not it traveling along with us. Otherwise, just fog.”
“Tomorrow,” Jack informed, “when Alnordel takes another look at the stars and finds we are two hundred leagues from Lordsisle, you’ll have a different opinion. It may not be as dis-concerting as Dreamwalking, but the Steam messes with your head. I’m going to turn in. When I wake, I’ll be much closer to home. Good night, Ally.” He said, kissing the Ailfar princess’ cheek. “You two behave.”
Ailicia’s cheeks colored. She and Dorad were still holding hands.
“Two down, two to go,” Jack grinned.
Braedan awoke the next morning, refreshed and rested. He noticed immediately he could sense Yhswyndyr and knew they had left the Stream of Time. Bright sunlight was streaming through the window of the captain’s quarters. He had given in to the seductive call of a soft bed, hoping his Lions would be too preoccupied to notice he’d broken his promise. He’d sleep below deck with them tonight. Or whenever he felt tired again. From the looks of things, they had emerged from the Stream in mid-afternoon. Jack put on his boots, strapped on Yhswyndyr, and went to see how things were going.
On the quarter-deck, Lord Dhoran stood by the wheel house, feet akimbo, hands grasping his staff. There was a pale blue nimbus of light surrounding the Staffclave’s Master of Studies. Kaiddra was at the wheel, keeping her fiancée company, steering the ship. The Wind of Aeralnen was trying to live up to its name. By the sound of the waves crashing against the bow and the whip of the sails, Jack guessed they might be traveling at almost 15 or 20 knots. Almost twice the speed Tarsus had ever coaxed from the Seawolf. Other than a few of Alnordel’s crew working the rigging, the deck was pretty much deserted.
“Where is everyone?” Braedan asked.
“Too windy for them,” Kaiddra replied. “And good morning to you as well, King Jack.”
“Good morning, Master of Sails,” he quickly apologized, bowing. “Good morning Lord Dhoran.”
“High King,” the Lord nodded, maintaining a tight grip on his staff and a tighter grip on the forces commanding the wind.
“How long have we been out of the Stream of Time?” Braedan asked.
“Three hours at least,” Kaiddra estimated. “The Spellweaver and the Lords sustaining her last night have retired. And by last…night…I mean however many days we were traveling through the unnatural fog. I will be interested indeed to see how far we have gone when Alnordel plots our position at nightfall.”
“We are cruising along at a pretty good clip, now.” Jack observed. “Is it taxing Lord Dhoran?”
“I will be able to sustain this for a few more hours yet,” he replied.
“I can’t call up the wind with Yhswyndyr,” Jack said, “but I can spell you at the wheel. Kaiddra, if you want to go grab yourself or Dhoran some water or something?”
“That would be wonderful,” Kaiddra nodded. “Grab the wheel tight, Jack. It fights you something fierce at this speed.”
It did indeed. How the Queen of the Seas had been steering the ship so casually…she was stronger than she looked. “She’s stronger than she looks,” Jack remarked, “this thing is like trying to guide bull by the horns.”
“In more ways than one,” Dhoran nodded. Whether the Lord was replying to the first remark or the second, was hard to tell.
“I haven’t really thanked you yet,” Jack said, turning to look at Dhoran.
“For what, High King?” he asked.
“For making Kaiddra happy,” Jack replied. “And for taking in Heath as you have.
They are both…special to me.”
“Heath is a good lad,” Dhoran nodded. “Smart. I hope he will be accepted into the Browns next spring. If there is one.”
“And when are you and Kaiddra…” he let the question hang.
“Getting married?” the Lord asked. His concentration waved for a moment and the wind faltered. He struggled to regain his focus and the winds pick up again.
“Yeah, it’s scary. I know,” Jack nodded. “When I said my vows to Annawyn, knowing what was ahead for her, for us, I was physically ill with worry. She gives me strength. You have heard me talk about it. I would not be standing here without her. Graith would have already won. Don’t put off making Kaiddra happy today, for fear of what tomorrow will bring. There is a former pirate’s pearl of wisdom for the Staffclaves’ Master of Studies.”
“I will…take it under consideration,” Dhoran replied, looking at him briefly.
“I know my appearance on Lordsisle has been…less than enjoyable for you. Men being men,” Jack said. “I will do my best to stay out of your way. I know we will never likely be friends, but I will need you before the end. And Kaiddra as well I fear.”
“There is no ill will on my part, High King,” Dhoran nodded. “The past is the past. It…your former…it will not affect my service to Aralon.”
“I didn’t imagine it would,” Jack nodded. “Ah, her she comes. What took you so long?”
“I was only gone a few minutes,” Kaiddra replied.
“Really?” asked Jack. “It feels like I’ve been wrestling this wheel for hours!”
“Because you have grown soft, guarded by your Lions and depending on magik swords,” the Queen of the Seas smiled. “Water, my love?”
“Thank you,” he nodded as she offered him the cup she carried. Dhoran’s concentration wavered again. The beautiful former pirate was quite the distraction. Even for a Staffclave Master of Studies.
